Copper and Tellurium
by GingerPanda8123
Summary: Putting the pieces back together is easier with a little help from your friends - especially leaning on certain ape. If that didn't give it away, this is a Grahamfield story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story takes place right after the end of the game, the night of Chloe's funeral. I wrote this last year, after I finished it, and it's much more depressing than I remembered. Sorry about that. But then again, it's the night of Chloe's funeral, so... Anyway. Enjoy.**

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I can't sleep. I say that, but I haven't even dared trying. The sole idea of lying in bed, staring into nothing, just brooding… it's terrifying. I know the path my thoughts will take me to and I just can't deal with that right now. I've had enough. Enough grief, enough loss. Enough wondering what if. What if I'd done something different. What if I hadn't listened to her and told the world to screw it. What if, what if.

I scroll down my newsfeed in a poor attempt to switch my brain off for a while. Victoria got her new fancy camera and is having a great time in San Franscisco. I guess she won the contest after all. Taylor has just uploaded a bunch of pictures with her mom. Trevor and Dana are clearly not a thing anymore, or never were, for that matter. Seems Kate is visiting her sisters for the weekend. They're all alive and well. Arcadia Bay is as peaceful and dull as it could be. I should be happy about that, I know.

My laptop is useless after a while. A quick scan of my room lets me know everything is still practically the same - though much tidier. Substitute Max has managed to keep Lisa alive, unlike me. Perhaps she was too busy to remember to drawn it. And apparently she's still keeping Warren's flash drive. He must be losing his mind by now. Kate's bunny is no longer here. I guess he's never even been in this room. But the main difference is that all my notes and books about time-traveling are simply gone. Like my powers. Like her.

But everything else is still here, as if it had been frozen in time since last week. It's hard to remember what my life was like before. What _I_ was like. If I were to calculate the exact amount of time in which I moved since Monday, it would probably be more like a month since her death until… Her death again. My journal pops out from the corner of my eye. It was the first thing I checked when I came back to my room. The words from the last entry Substitute Max wrote still burn in my mind.

 _"I can't believe she's gone and I didn't even got to see her again. There's so much I wanted to tell her, so much I wanted to know. I wasted so much time being stupid and postponing it, when I should have called her the second I came back to Arcadia Bay. I wish we could have had more time. More time to talk together, to joke, to be pirates together. More time to tell her how sorry I am…"_

I need to get out. But I can't just re-spawn far away from here - I'll have to walk through the halls first, and I can already hear everyone out there. Most of them are probably going out, like they normally would on any other Friday night, and the last thing I want is people giving me pity eyes and asking how I am. I'll have to make use of all of my repellents. First of all, I take my earplugs and set the volume annoyingly high so that I can hear absolutely nothing but Syd's songs. So that other people can hear it too and get it as ' _do not disturb_ '. I don't bother to check my appearance in the mirror - there's no need to remind me how zombified I look. I do brush my bangs with my fingers, only to make sure they help me block great part of my vision. That way, I can stare at my feet the whole way, hear no evil, see no evil.

I'm ready.

I open the door and Kate is standing right there in front of me.

 _Avoidance Mission failed_.

I take off my earplugs.

"Oh hey Max. I was just going to check in on you." She smiles her naturally kind smile.

"Hi Kate." I also need to push my bangs away from my eyes now. "Thanks, but I was actually on my way out."

"Oh okay. Well, thank you for letting me borrow your copy of _The Decisive Moment_." She hands me the book apparently lent to her by Substitute Max. "And if you need anything, just let me know. I'll be here a few feet away."

"Thank you, Kate. I really appreciate it. But… I thought you were going home to your sisters."

"Oh no, they are the ones who are coming. My whole family is. With everything that's surfaced with the arrests, they want to be here with me."

"Right. The arrests." Shit. There's so much I have to catch up on. Just not now. Be gone, troublesome real life. "Then I guess I'll see you later."

"Sure. Are you going out alone?" It warms my heart to know someone cares earnestly about me.

"No, I'm… going out with Warren." It's only a little white lie, and it definitely brings some light to her face.

"Oh, that's great. Well, you two have fun!"

I thank her and say goodnight with the best smile I can pull - which is probably not too much, but it's the only thing I can give her right now. Seeing Kate and talking to her is so surreal. I even consider going back and staying with her, but I could use the night air. This time my plan succeeds, and I'm out and about without anyone getting in my way.

Syd's singing about American girls so loud in my ears I can't even hear my own thoughts. It's perfect. I'm surprised at how cold it is tonight, but it feels nice, it's… distracting. It reminds me of a night when we were young pirates. It was one of those days in April when it's not quite warm yet, but the almost forgotten feeling of sunlight on your skin instead of a piercing chill makes you desperate to take out your summer clothes. So I did, I put on my t-shirt and my dorky shorts with suspenders. She had a good laugh at that. Like many other times, the woods were our playground. We were running around there for so long it got really dark real soon. That would happen quite often with her. We'd always have so much fun we'd lose track of time. I remember I was scared shitless of shadows, of wild animals, UFOs, you name it. But she wasn't, she found the way out in a matter of minutes. She was always braver than me.

The campus is empty and I enjoy walking aimlessly, even when the wind grows a bit stronger. I zip up my hoodie and as I slide my hands into my pockets I feel my phone vibrate. I haven't checked it today. I've got 2 messages from my mom, 1 from my dad, 1 from Juliet, 4 from Warren. I don't need to read them, I already know what they'll say, and I don't feel like reliving that. I'll just keep them unread in my pocket for a while longer.

I almost smile to myself when I see that Jefferson's posters have been taken down from the main campus. So have Rachel's. I wonder how her family is. I wonder whether she also had a proper funeral. She was so popular - everyone would go to hers. The comforting feeling is soon gone as my brain reminds me that everything I remember has been erased. Even the most banal things, like the old homey feeling, the sense of adventure of being at school at night… Nothing about this place feels familiar anymore. Even the squirrels and fireflies seem to be hiding from me. I kinda know it's for the best but I've yet to believe it.

By now, I've reached that weird Syd song that says something about drowning someone in a river, so I'll just turn the music off for a while. I've only pressed the button when I hear a shout in the distance that almost makes me drop my phone. I turn my neck instinctively in the direction I believe it came from so fast it hurts. Another shout, and another one, and a few howls. Only then I realize it's just some wasted dudes partying nearby. Fuck them. No one should be partying tonight. If they only knew the only reason they're here it's because of her. _Instead_ of her.

I get up and now I'm running. But I've got no real destination. Everywhere I go, I'll always keep thinking of her. And that'll always take me back to the bathroom. To the shot. To her death. Shit, shit, shit. Stop. I don't want to cry. I don't want this. I want to skip forward in time until everything feels better, if there is such a moment. Why didn't I get _that_ power in return? A sort of compensation for loss and damage.

Back in front of the dorms, going in doesn't sound like a good idea. My room is not my room anymore. Nothing is really the same. Maybe if I could find a constant, anything that remains unchanged. Well, there is one thing. Before I have time to regret it, I walk into the boy's dorms.

I have no appreciation for the smell in here, a mixture of sweat and male deodorant. Luckily, by now it's late at night and there's no one lurking in the shadows. Still, I move in the slowest pace and try to make the least possible noise as I walk straight on and turn left. The tape on the door on the left catches my attention for a second, but I'm gonna ignore that tonight. I knock on the last door on the right, and instantly wish I could take it back. It was a shitty idea, it's stupid o'clock past midnight. Maybe he hasn't heard it. Maybe I can get away with leaving without being seen. Yes, Max, do that. I'm just about to turn in the hall when I hear him call my name in confusion.

"Oh, hey Warren," I say casually. Because knocking on his room in the middle of the night is absolutely casual.

"I thought it was some of the guys pranking me, I never…" He scratches the back of his head. "Are you alright?"

"I… don't know." Not what he wants to hear, probably. "It's nothing. Sorry I woke you up, I'd better go now."

"You didn't. I was on a movie marathon."

"At 2am?" I can't help but give him a playful smirk.

"Hey, it's not a school night." His _'rebel'_ attitude is on. "I can go wild sometimes. And don't tell anybody but… it's PG13".

"With no adults around? Warren Graham, you're incorrigible."

He shakes his head with his signature chuckle.

"So... you wanna join? The marathon, I mean."

I'm still standing in the middle of the hall like an idiot.

"Sure."

He smiles at me but there's nothing pitiful or condescending about it. It makes me wish I'd come here earlier.

It's the first time I see the inside of his room. He actually owns a nice LCD TV and a badass computer, but those are about the only highlights. The rest of the ordinary furniture makes it look like any other bedroom. I'm actually disappointed. Even Victoria's room looks geekier.

"Sorry for the mess." His voice sounds embarrassed, but the only real mess is on his desk - a mixture of DVDs, cables and random electronic items - and some clothes lying on the floor. He picks these up quickly, but not before I get to notice a pair of TARDIS boxers. I'd make fun of him for that, but I actually wish I had a pair of those. Only once he throws everything inside the closet and closes it behind him I notice his Jar Jar T-shirt. _That_ I can make fun of.

"Nice PJs."

"Yeah, a gift from my mom. For some reason she thought he was cool. Clearly she hasn't seen any of the films." I believe he's blushing, but it's hard to tell since the only light in here comes from the screen. He picks up some more stuff from the floor. "But it's a hit with the ladies." Definitely blushing. "Anyway, I was halfway through Schaffner's Planet of the Apes. Taylor has just been captured."

"Oh, man. I missed the action."

It's much warmer in here than in the outside world, so I take off my hoodie.

There is no couch, but his bed is placed right in front of the screen, and there is enough place for both of us to sit there. Warren makes me go through some sort of test to check my prior knowledge of the Ape films, and only once I pass he unveils his stash of snacks - snickers and a bag of chips - so I accuse him of going all Pavlov on me. I bet he takes it as a compliment. Anyway, I can't eat any of it. Even though I haven't eaten anything since I don't know when, I don't think I could manage sending anything to my stomach right now.

Warren loses himself in the film within seconds of unpausing it. It's crazy really to think about it. He let me in, no questions asked, and is clearly doing his best to keep me distracted from whatever is bothering me. I wish I could tell him everything, but at the same time I feel there's no need to. I can just travel to the Planet of the Apes and forget about Arcadia Bay. Warren can't help but comment on every funny facial expression the actors make every two minutes, but his remarks always make me laugh.

Only when the film is coming to an end I realize this was indeed a bad idea. Following the story of some people trying to survive and find their way home, only to realize their home has already been destroyed… it hits me harder than I expected. I've watched this film so many times, but this is the first time I think I actually understand how they feel.

"Isn't that the coolest ending you've ever watched?" Warren's eyes are fixated on the screen, pure fascination in them.

The growing lump in my throat won't let me reply. I envy him. I envy the way he ignores that just a few hours ago, The Two Whales was blowing up in flames. That I was able to find him only by first walking among piles of dead bodies. People who were dead because of me. Because I couldn't let go. I still can't.

"They were there all along. They never even…" He stops short when he looks at me. I'm not sure what I look like, but it can't be good. I want to say something, anything, but when I open my mouth my bottom lip trembles violently by its own will. "Hey… I'm sorry. I never should have chosen this shitty movie."

Bullshit, he loves it. But I can't speak. I can barely breathe.

"It's not…" I try, but my voice breaks in the second syllable. And I can't hold it back anymore. "She's gone." I bite my lip with all of my strength, I don't even want to hear myself say it. "And I'm… not. It's not fucking fair. She's fucking dead!"

It begins with spasms. Awful, crippling spasms, one after the other. Only then the tears start to burst out of my eyes. Any power of self-control I had has gone to hell. I'm there again, I'm hearing the shot, I'm letting her die. She's bleeding and he's shouting and it smells of chlorine and sweat and death and desperation. She dies. Over and over again, she dies. And I wish I could blame Mark Jefferson or Nathan Fucking Prescott or Frank or Pompidou, but I'm the one who just sat there and let it happen. She didn't deserve this. Any of it. All her life was pure shit after shit after shit. She didn't deserve this.

I'm only brought back when I feel Warren's arms around me. It feels as though he's just given me permission to fall apart, because I instantly lose all my strength and fall against his chest. His embrace grows tighter, which only causes my sobbing to grow louder, as if he were squeezing it out of me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I keep saying it over and over, though I'm not sure to whom and, anyway, it doesn't sound like my voice at all. The sound I make is something that would be more likely to come out of a dying whale - oh, the irony.

"It's okay. It'll be okay." Warren whispers against my hair.

I focus on the sound of his voice. He keeps speaking softly to me, reassuring, and I almost believe him. Maybe if he said it about a hundred more times. He is kind of right I guess. Things couldn't possibly be any worse than what they are now. It could only get better, no matter how long it takes.

Eventually, my chest becomes less and less heavy, and my breathing is almost normal. I feel like a little girl, curled up against him, locked inside his arms. I make a new effort to speak.

"Poor Jar Jar." It comes out as a whisper, but it's something.

"What?" Warren asks, not loosening his embrace.

"Poor fucking Jar Jar. I've drooled all over his face".

"Didn't I tell you? Girls always drool over it".

I laugh more than I usually would, since my chest finds some comfort in that. Warren laughs too, probably out of relief that I've stopped crying. I actually feel guilty now for putting him in that position.

"Sorry I got so emotional over the film. Heston's performance was just so convincing." I only manage to joke, and I can tell he enjoys it.

"I know. He even made me doubt my sexuality. But you know, _boobs_."

"So deep, Warren."

He laughs and then there's just silence for a few seconds, though it doesn't feel awkward at all. When Warren speaks again, he sounds more serious.

"I know I make a lot of stupid jokes. But I want you to know… I'm here for you. Anything you need, I mean it. Even if it means ruining all of my t-shirts."

I smile against his chest. His shirt is indeed wet from my tears, but at least it's not a big loss.

"Thanks Warren. But Jar Jar, really? You know I'm doing you a favor." I speak mockingly and his chuckle shakes my head a bit.

"It's so nice to hear you laugh." He sighs. "Or even speak to me at all."

I consider his words for a moment.

"We haven't talked much this week, have we?"

"I didn't want to bother you, I… I didn't know how close you were to her."

"Nobody does." I'm the one who sighs now. Nobody could ever understand. "She was the best and worst company you could have. Self-centered, guilt-tripping as fuck. But she could love you like no one else. She would get me in ways that… There will never be anyone like her."

I close my eyes and they sting for a moment, but then the feeling slowly fades. Warren is gently stroking my hair, something my mom used to do when I was little to put me to sleep. And it works like a charm. The sound of his breathing becomes a background and distant noise as other things come alive in front of me. The smell of Joyce's pancakes. The feeling of fresh sheets under my bare legs. The sun creeping in from the window through the curtains. The sight of blue hair. Her smile as she lies by my side.

 _Chloe_.

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 **A/N: I actually wrote quite a few more chapters following this, was planning on uploading it as a one-shot, unless anyone is interested in seeing where this goes. I promise it'll be less depressing and sorta more romantic. Eventually.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Every other chapter will be super short and have a very different style, those are Max's dreams. This one starts right after the ending of chapter 1. Enjoy.**

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"Max Caulfield, sleeping around. Who would have thought?"

"Shut up. You're just jealous."

"Meh. The poor dork must be disappointed you fell asleep on him."

"You're the worst. Warren's not like that. I think he's too nice for me."

"Get over yourself. No one will ever be good enough for you."

"No one but you."

"Exactly."

"…"

"…"

"This morning was perfect."

"I know. I remember thinking – Wow, this chick is so fucking cool... And then you had to go and ruin it with your _'Shaka brah_ '."

"Hey, I was rocking that."

"You were rocking _something_... Ouch!"

"That was just a fair warning. Next time I'm ready to kick your ass."

"Fine, fine, whatever. I bet that goody-goody boyfriend of yours would be turned on with all the cat fight anyway… Fuck, ouch! Alright, alright, I lower my weapons to you ma'am."

" _I_ 'm the one in control of the weapons."

"Which happen to be _my_ pillows, thank you very much. Ouch!"

"You had it coming."

"I'm so gonna tell Step-douche on you."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"So, how you holdin' up?"

"You really need to ask? Not good. And now I'm quite embarrassed about all the crying."

"Missing your powers already?"

"Yeah, I think that's part of the problem. I can't do that anymore. Even if I fuck up, I have to live with it."

"Welcome back to the real world, kiddo."

"I liked _our_ world better."

"Of course you did. But that would be too easy. You've made your choice."

"…"

"Don't look so down about it. For reals. Thank you for accepting my request. Sorry you had to do that twice…"

"…"

"…"

"Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"How do I… move on now?"

"You just do. Follow the natural course of time."

"I'm shit at that... Maybe I should be more like you."

"Dead, you mean?"

"…"

"Oh, come on, hippie, where's your sense of humor?"

"It _is_ dead."

"That's more like it. You need to stop giving a fuck about everything. Plus, some blue hair would look hella sick on you."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that."

"Man, that shitty attitude again. Where's Bat Max, the Blackwell Ninja, the badass chick who told Jefferson to eat shit and die?"

"Probably still in the dark room."

"Well, we need to take her out of there. Now. I won't rest in peace or whatever dead people do till she's out."

"…"

"…"

"Chloe…"

"…"

"I miss you."

"I know. But it's time to wake up already."

"Will you still be here when I come back?"

"Sure. I'll be your partner in mind."

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 **A/N: I couldn't possibly write a LIS fanfiction and leave Chloe out, this is the only way it made sense to me. Thank you for reading! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

The wonderful smell of Joyce's pancakes is soon replaced by… the wonderful smell of Joyce's pancakes. I can tell I'm awake, this isn't a dream, but that awesome scent is still there, impregnating my nostrils, suddenly making me hungry. I need them.

Only when I brush my knees together I realize I'm still wearing my jeans - all of my clothes - from last night. I blink my eyes a few times to adjust my vision. It's harder than usual, since my eyelids are swollen from all the crying. The first thing I see is hair. Brown strands from my bangs everywhere. My head must be a complete mess. I brush it away from my face and I encounter Jar Jar's t-shirt sitting on a chair next to the bed I'm lying on. I can't believe someone would even _make_ that, let alone buy it. It takes me a few more seconds to take in the rest of the room. A _'Save the Clock Tower'_ poster. A few shelves with more books than I could count. A space-themed cover over me. Warren's back just a few feet away from me. I can hear the clicks of his index finger on the computer mouse. Finally, I find it. There is a blue-ish tray on the desk, next to his keyboard. _Breakfast_.

I'm suddenly taken aback by the furious growl from my stomach. I'm hoping Warren hasn't heard it, but he instantly spins his chair back to me.

"Morning, you. Hungry?" He chuckles.

"Hi. It's not my fault." My voice comes out raspy and sleepy. "Pancakes are my deathly weakness."

"I know." Warren gets up, takes the tray and lays it on top of Jar Jar. Pancakes, waffles, coffee and an omelette. _Please let it be bacon_. "I went to the Two Whales and got a good load of breakfast."

"So these are actually Joyce's pancakes?" The excitement in my voice must have made me sound like a child.

"Well, not really. She's not working this week, another lady has taken her place… but I bet they're amazing anyway."

"Oh. Right." Of course she wouldn't be at the diner the day after she buried her only daughter. I sit up and just as I pull my legs out of the covers I realize I'm barefoot.

"Oh, I put your shoes here by the bed. Hope you don't mind."

"Thank you. And for letting me stay and… Thank you."

"Of course." Warren shrugs and sits by my side. My stomach is growling again. "Can I go for that waffle or am I in danger of losing my hand in the process?"

"You can try." I smile and take the red plastic fork, ready to attack those pancakes. Even if Joyce didn't make them, they are some of the best I've tasted in my life. "So since when does the Two Whales have a take-out service?"

"They don't, I think. But I'd promised Joyce I'd check that broken jukebox there in exchange for this tasty reward." Warren takes the last bit of his waffle to his mouth. He's enjoying it just as much as me with my precious pancakes. "I almost die from starvation, there was _so_ much food. That place gets packed at lunchtime."

"I know." I then stop chewing. "Wait, what? You said lunchtime? What time is it?"

"It's… 3.15." He answers after checking his phone.

"Oh shit. How much did I sleep? Why didn't you wake me?"

I remember falling asleep on his chest and then… nothing. I was so shattered there could have been a fucking earthquake - _or a tornado_ \- and I most likely just would have gone on sleeping.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I woke up at 9 and it was cold so I put the cover on you and… I couldn't wake you up." He smiles apologetically as he scratches the back of his neck. "I mean, literally. I tried, but you were like in a coma, you looked exhausted. So I decided to wait a bit longer and do some homework and then I remembered about the jukebox and thought it would be cool to get some food. And then I came back and I guess the pancakes woke you up."

I'm processing all the information. And what was I worrying about again? It's not like I wasted a perfectly productive day or anything. It's finally fucking Saturday and I can do whatever I want. Even sleep all day in Warren's bed. I gulp down the coffee and strike the omelet. Glorious bacon, I could eat you forever.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Warren is examining me, I can tell.

"Oh no, I'm just really hungry." I don't even bother to swallow before I speak.

"That's great, you can eat all you want." He chuckles and walks to his computer. "I was thinking… I don't know if you had plans or anything, but maybe we could watch _Beneath the Planet of the Apes,_ you know, the second one. If you feel like it. Or you can go out and breathe fresh air like a damn dirty human."

"If it keeps me from putting my shoes back on, I'll go ape."

"Then you shan't need them."

I take my time to chew on the last crunchy, wonderfully tasty piece of bacon. My love for breakfast has been officially reborn.

"This is incredible. I could hug you right now." I say as I go for the last waffle.

"Well, you know I'm a sucker for hugs. But I really smell like an ape right now. You mind if I go hit the showers?"

I mumble something along the lines of " _it's okay_ " with my mouth still full of food. Warren then grabs some of his things and leaves the room. I'm almost embarrassed when I realize I've eaten two thirds of the tray myself but again, I give myself permission not to care today. Once I'm finished, I remember to check my phone, only to find it's dead. Warren must have a charger among all those cables on his desk. I make my way towards it, my feet still naked. There is a sticky note lying next to the keyboard. It reads:

 _"Good morning Max, didn't want to wake you up. I'll be back in no time with a magnificent, never-seen-before feast for breakfast. In the meantime, you're free to roam around my cave or, you know, whatever kids call it these days. Warren G."_

His dorkiness makes me smile. Right next to the note, as if it had been carefully placed, there's a flyer for the drive-in we were supposed to go to. The idea of getting away from Arcadia Bay for hours sounds really inviting. Maybe we could continue our apes marathon there, but I don't know whether they're still screening those films. I sit on the computer to see if there is a site with any more information. An old Windows 98 maze screensaver is on - s _eriously, Warren?_ -, and as I move the mouse, the screen reveals a Facebook profile. It's Chloe's.

Warren has been reading the comments left on her timeline. There are only a few, but at least they sound like they cared. Chloe hadn't used this page in a while, and all her last pictures are with Rachel. I click on _her_ profile now, and it's filled with dozens of goodbye messages. I can't look at it. Why was I even on the computer? I'll just go back to search for the charger.

I finally find one tangled with some other five cables and manage to plug my phone. There are three missed calls from my mom. I don't even get to check the texts when it starts ringing in my hand.

"Mom, hi." I take the call immediately.

"Oh, Maxine, finally! Where are you? Your dad and I have been waiting for more than an hour now, we were worried!"

"Waiting for what?" My comprehension skills are at their worst.

"For you, of course! We were supposed to meet for lunch at the Two Whales, remember, honey?"

My parents, in Arcadia Bay. And I knew nothing about it. I hadn't begun to consider the idea that I might actually have plans. Damn you, Substitute Max.

"Oh, I… overslept. Sorry, I…"

My mom is about to complain but then I hear my dad's voice, he's using his soothing, Bob Marley-ish tone. He says something to her, she replies, he speaks again, and then she's back, her voice full of unicorns and rainbows.

"Okay, honey, don't worry. We'll eat something here and meet you at Blackwell in an hour, is that okay? Do you want us to take some food? Or would you like something different? Is there anything you need?"

With my lips tightly pressed, I tell her it's fine and finish the call with a sigh. So they're already in their _ultra-cautious mode_. The last time that happened was when Mrs. Allen took Dante for a walk and lost him. At least that's what Dad said. I'm pretty sure he died, because both my parents started behaving suspiciously tolerant with me after that for two weeks or so. No matter what I did or said, they wouldn't get mad at me. I would even put on a scene just to see if they cracked, but nothing. It's not that I don't appreciate it, their intentions are nice, but I've found that whenever some kind of tragedy strikes, ongoing normality is what helps me keep going best, while their tiptoeing around me only serves as a constant reminder that I might break at any time. I just haven't found a way to make them see that, and I don't think I ever will.

This time I'll make sure I'm at least a bit more prepared, so I check my parent's texts from this week quickly. They were sorry they couldn't make it to the burial, but they came for the day to see me and to pay Joyce their respect. I really want to see them again, but I don't like the thought of them asking questions I don't have the answers for. I clearly don't know shit about what _"I"_ have been doing this week, or about anything that's been going on, only the basics. And they're _pretty fucking basic_ \- I don't even know how Jefferson was busted. I'm guessing Nathan spilled the beans but most of my knowledge is just that, guesses. And the worst part is I can't think about that right now because I really, _really_ need to pee.

I'm putting on my shoes when the door opens, startling me a bit. A just-showered Warren walks in wearing his Schrödinger's cat tee.

"All clean as new. Everything okay?" He looks down at my fully-dressed feet. His hair is damp and for a moment I'm distracted by the little drops of water that fall on the skin around his neck.

"Uhm… yes. No. My parents are in town and I was supposed to meet them for lunch but… I guess I forgot."

"Oh, okay. But you totally owe me a movie marathon."

 _That was it, I was supposed to Google the films._

"Actually..." I now take my bag and the drive-in flyer, which I hand to him. "You think you can get tickets for tomorrow?"

The surprise in his face is quite something.

"You… you wanna go to the drive-in in Newberg?"

"Yeah, I… _heard_ they're screening ape films so if that's still going on…"

"Sure! You read my mind, I wanted to ask you… Just wasn't sure it was the right time."

"Trust me, I could really use some time away."

"Then let's go ape! I'll see if I can get the tickets now."

Making new plans feels like a good way to regain control over my life. Warren makes sure there's no one in the hall first so I can leave no questions asked, which I accomplish just as swiftly as I got in the previous night.

The girl's dorms are virtually empty when I go back to my room, which I'm thankful for. I make a stop at the bathroom first and then head to get my shower supplies. All the while I try and predict which topics my parents are going to tackle, which questions they'll ask and which names they'll name. There are many things I'm not supposed to know that I should keep to myself, but it'll be hard to fill the void of those I'm not aware of and should be. I'll try not to talk about Mark Jefferson. Or the dark room. Or Nathan Prescott. Or… Chloe. I might as well just talk about squirrels.

I'm ready to get in the shower when I notice my horrid appearance in the mirror. The bags under my eyes look even bigger than I thought, my hair is fit for any bird to nest in and my face in general looks like I'm going through at least phase 1 of zombification, which is actually kind of cool. Or maybe I've spent too much time with Warren. I shake my head and rush under the hot water. In there I can forget about time and space, all I care about is that warm feeling on my hair and skin. I even sing to myself in my head to avoid thinking about anything else. Christmas carols are the first thing that come to mind, so I just go for that over and over. I have no idea how much time goes by until a sudden coldness makes me jump.

"Water!" I get to yell as I move swiftly away from it.

"Oh, sorry!" I think that's Kate's voice.

The water is running again but the relaxing moment is obviously gone and not coming back anytime soon, so I only stay a minute and turn it off. I quickly dry myself with my towel, put on the fresh clothes I chose and step out. A déjà vu feeling takes over me as I see Kate standing by the washbasin. She's wearing a delicate green blouse and a knee-length beige skirt.

"Oh Max, hi, I'm so sorry," she says as she fidgets with her hands. I've rarely ever seen her do this. "I was distracted and I didn't notice there was someone in here."

"Hi Kate, it's okay. You look really nice," I say to her.

"You think so?" She smiles and then looks down at her clothes, scrutinizing herself. "I wanted to wear something smart since my parents are coming…"

"Yeah, that color suits you. So, is _that_ why you're nervous?"

"Is it that obvious? It's just… you don't know my mother." Kate looks away. "I mean, she's… _good_ , but she expects a lot from me. They were supposed to be here by now, but they've just texted they're delayed."

"Relax, it's going to be alright." I try my best 'comforting' tone but it's not as effective as my dad's. "And actually, my parents are coming too in a while. You should come and meet them."

"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to bother."

"You wouldn't, at all. They'll love you. We can wait for them outside, if you're not busy."

"If you say so…" Kate half-smiles and we walk together out of the bathroom. "By the way, how did it go last night with Warren?"

"Great. We stayed in and watched _Planet of the Apes_." I can save what happened next to myself.

"Yes, that sounds like him. I'm glad you two are spending some time together. He asked me a few times about you this week. I think he didn't want to barge in."

"Uhm, yeah. It was really nice. He's a really good friend." This last word causes a knowing smile to draw on her lips. We've now stepped out of the building and are strolling towards the campus. "I don't think I'm as good a friend as he is…"

"Sure you are, Max. Everything you said the other day meant so much to me. I loved our long chat over tea."

"Right. Me too," I reply, trying to sound like I know what the hell that 'long chat' was about. "We should do that again."

"Of course."

"And how have you been feeling?"

"I'm… better. I'm not going to lie, it felt good to see Nathan Prescott and Mr. Jefferson go down. To see justice being served. To truly understand what had happened to me. But we've yet to see what their fates will be like. Especially since… oh, are those your parents?"

I turn my head in the direction she's looking and see my mom and dad walking straight towards us. I pick up my pace and am soon held by my mom. Her hair smells of apples as she hugs me in one of those motherly embraces which make me feel like a 3-year-old. Thank God Kate is here because otherwise, this hug would last forever and then my mom would cry, and I would cry, and my dad would cry, and we would all be a crying mess. As soon as she lets me go, I walk into my dad's arms, whose super-tight embrace barely even allows me to breathe. Before it gets awkward, I introduce Kate to them, and try to ignore the fact that my mom already has tears in her eyes. My parents have decided we'll walk to Mario's, that café they used to go to when we lived here, and luckily they only ask banal questions on our way. Kate's family is still delayed, so my mom insists on her joining us, and I'm glad she does.

The real questions start once we're sitting down at a table. Mom begins talking about Chloe, and about how they're going to visit Joyce after coffee.

"I won't be joining you today, I'm still really tired," I hurry to say before she invites me. I definitely don't feel like going to her house if Chloe is not there.

"It's okay, honey, we understand. I talked to Joyce on the phone the other day and she told me about how much you helped her these days."

"I did? I mean, she did?"

"Sure, she's so grateful. She told me you went to see her every day, you helped her out with Chloe's things, with the funeral arrangements… We're so proud of you, dear."

"Wowser." I'm honestly surprised. Keeping Lisa alive, tea with Kate, helping Joyce, Substitute Max sounds like a great Samaritan after all.

Now the more serious questions follow, about Jefferson and Nathan. I try to answer as vaguely as possible and this is when I'm most thankful Kate's here. I pay close attention to every word she says.

She mentions that not much is heard about the cases - which is no surprise, since the Prescotts pretty much own the media and want to keep it as quiet as possible - but it seems Nathan's dad has been pulling some strings to try and take him home. Just hearing that makes my blood curl, and brings together a whole load of mixed feelings. I know first-hand how fucked up Nathan Prescott is, and I don't want him anywhere near the people I care about. I remember him threatening and killing Chloe. All the sick things I saw in his room. Everything he did to aid his 'mentor'. But I also remember the voicemail he left on my phone trying to warn me. The panic in his voice. The smirk on Jefferson's face as he talked about twisting Nathan's mind.

As for Mark Jefferson, his case has been overshadowed by the Prescott's scandal and as of now, even less information has been released to the press. Not even Nathan's dad has said a single comment on the man who fucking toyed with his son. Kate then stops herself and changes the topic to the recent changes in Blackwell. The security staff has doubled –ironic, since I snuck in and out of the boy's dorms without anyone seeing me - and a new teacher has already been chosen to replace Jefferson, and it's Andrea _Something_ – I don't catch her last name-, a photographer from Los Angeles. My attention drifts away from then on. It's not that I'm not interested, I'd just rather hear more about the cases. I focus on staring at my mom, who seems quite pleased listening to Kate, whereas my dad eyes me from time to time. He's not a big talker, but his looks always let us know how he feels. I can't figure this one out though.

Kate excuses herself when her phone rings and gets up from the table.

"I'm so glad that man is behind bars, Maxine." My mom frowns bitterly. "It sickens me to think he was there with you kids this whole time. I'm so, so glad he never got to you."

I can only fake a poor smile. Ignorance is definitely bliss here. Kate informs us that her family has finally arrived so she says goodbye with a nervous smile back on. I give her a reassuring hug before sitting back on my chair. This is when I would freeze time and plan something smart and comforting to say to my parents so they can depart without a doubt their daughter will be just fine. But time keeps moving on, they have already finished their coffee and since I'm not ordering anything, Dad asks for the check. I now hear him speak for what I believe is the third time all day.

"You know honey, your mom and I have been talking and… maybe it's time you come home."

"Home? To Seattle?"

"Yes. We think it's for the best."

"This town is clearly not what it used to be," my mom adds. "You've no idea how much we've suffered this week thinking about what could have happened to you. And poor Chloe…"

"But it didn't. Nothing happened to me." I can't look at them as I say this. "I can take care of myself." I take a quick look at them and realize I haven't convinced them one bit. "I can't leave. This place is all that's left of her. I don't want to leave her."

"Oh honey." My mom takes my hand across the table.

I focus my eyes on the gray tiles on the floor. Please, believe me. Don't see through me. From the corner of my eye I observe them share a long look before my mom sighs.

"It's okay, Maxine. Take as long as you need. But remember you can always come home."

I smile at them, a sincere smile this time, and take my chance to change the topic to Seattle. Mom says my friends miss me, but the only one she can actually name is Mrs. Johnson, whose kid I babysat twice. Because in all seriousness, I didn't have any true friends there. There were a few people I cared about, but not enough to stay in touch I guess. Or maybe that's just me, always neglecting friendships. For the following minutes, we just ramble about everyday things, which helps me ease my anxiety.

By dusk, we say goodbye at the café's door and I watch them walk away, heading to Joyce's. The sun is setting and long slender figures sprout downwards from their feet for shadows. They still share the same pace, just like a perfectly choreographed dancing couple. I am so lucky to have them. I open my bag and find William's camera, and use it to take a picture of them.

Blackwell is only five minutes away, enough for me to overanalyze the sour feeling growing in the bottom of my stomach from the talk about Seattle. I wasn't lying when I said I needed more time, I need it to make sure everyone in this town gets what they deserve, whatever that means. I can't just leave everything behind, thinking it will all probably turn out fine. Especially after I sacrificed _her_ for this place.

Even from outside the dorms, I can already hear girls giggling, music playing, boys arguing. If this afternoon this looked like a ghost town, now all the ghosts are ready to go out haunting. I'm standing with my feet buried by the front steps when I get a text.

 **"We are so GOING APE! Newberg is 60 miles so we should leave around 5. I drive."**

Some things clearly haven't changed. I stare at the door in front of me, already picturing me walking through it, being bombarded with everyone's Saturday night plans. No, thank you. I'm already leaving as I type a reply.

 **"Hell yeah we will in your new ride. You busy right now?"**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Your reviews make me happy and happy equals faster writing which means more chapters. It's a win-win.**


	4. Chapter 4

"Remember that time when we threw a funeral for my Barbie doll?"

"Yeah. It was that week after your uncle died. That was an awesome ceremony. With your Teddy bear officiating and everything. What was his name again?"

"My uncle's or my teddy's?"

"Your teddy's, Sherlock."

"The Captain."

"Right. Such a pirate. Your mom was so pissed."

"And with good reason. We almost burned down the kiddie pool."

"Pff, it was a Viking funeral, what did she expect?"

"I think I didn't actually believe my doll would catch fire. When I opened the scorched box and saw it had melted horribly… I don't know, I'd thought the fire wouldn't get to her."

"That's because you were young and naïve. And hella stupid."

"And what about you? Has death made you all wiser?"

"I wouldn't know. If you expect some deep shit about some sort of enlightenment and insight, then start looking somewhere else."

"Fine, but… are you alone? Have you seen Rachel?"

"I'm only here when I'm with you. And you've never met Rachel, so no, I couldn't."

"I've seen her in photos."

"But you've no clue what her voice sounds like. What she looks like when she's angry. Or whether she laughs, or chuckles, or giggles."

"I guess you're right."

"…"

"…"

"But I do wish she was here with us."

"Me too. Everyone who's talked to me about her sounded so smitten with her."

"She did have that effect on people."

"I think she somehow lives on because of that."

"Maybe. While I'm stuck here in your dirty mind."

"There's nothing dirty about this. Though actually I've no idea where we are."

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you don't recognize these tracks."

"No, I do, but… Are these the exact same tracks that I know? I mean, if we were to follow them… where would they take us? Is this the exact same moment we lived in… Or is it something else?"

"There's your deep shit."

"I'm serious. The sun, the wind, the smell of the trees, I can feel everything. But how real is it?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I'm… not sure."

"There's always one way to find out."

"And what is it?"

"…"

"Oh shit, I can hear it. Chloe, get up, the train is coming."

"…"

"Chloe! Come on, don't you fucking do this to me now! Wake up! Chloe! For fucking sake, wake up! Chloe!"

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 5 shall be up in a few minutes!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Wake up, Max. Max, wake up. Max."

The sound of his voice comes from afar, almost smothered by an ongoing sobbing and moaning. It takes me a few seconds to realize _I'm_ the one who's sobbing and moaning. I shoot my eyes open, my sight blurry from tears, and catch a glimpse of a few shapes made clear by a dim light. Even though I try my best to focus on my current vision, the image of her dead body lying on the tracks won't go away and I can't stop the crying. Her face looked so pale, her eyes lifeless. The feeling is stuck with me once more - I'm not supposed to be here. This isn't supposed to be happening.

"I want to go back," I say hurriedly as I sit up. My voice comes out hoarse and weak. "I made a mistake. I want to _rewind_. I want to see her. I need to rewind."

"Max…"

I raise my hand to use my powers, so fast the back of it hits something on its way, hard. Ah, fuck. I blink a few times and make out the larger shape. Warren is kneeling on the floor by my side, covering his face. So that's where my hand landed.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry." The tears continue to stream down my face without my permission.

"It's nothing." He smiles but I see some red start dripping from his right nostril. Something else is dripping from mine, and I try to hide it by cupping my nose and mouth with my hand. Warren hands me a box of tissues. "Here." He also takes one to his nose.

It takes several minutes and about five tissues to wipe my nose, my eyes, my cheeks and even my neck from tears and other crying fluids. It takes even longer for my brain to recollect the events from the last twelve hours. I remember meeting my parents, texting Warren, hanging out at the campus. Having an art session, me painting watercolors, him drawing something on his computer he never showed me. Playing WoW, re-watching Death Note, falling asleep sometime in the middle. I'm in Warren's room. The sun hasn't even come up yet. My powers are long gone. Chloe is still dead.

Warren throws the tissue he was using to the trash can and I'm glad to see his nosebleed has stopped.

"Better?" He knows better than to ask if I'm okay.

"Not really." I keep biting my lip. "But… it was just a nightmare."

"You wanna talk about it?" Warren asks and I shake my head. His look is one of frustration or maybe just plain helplessness. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Maybe you co… would you mind sitting here with me?" I manage to speak, though not without my voice breaking a few times.

"Of course." Warren gets up from the floor and I make room for him - there's not exactly much room in his bed, but it's still enough for both of us. I catch sight of a blanket on the floor.

"Were you sleeping there?"

"Yes."

"Did I wake you up?"

He hesitates for a second before answering.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

I can tell he's unsure about coming any closer to me, so I rest my head on his shoulder and, in return, he wraps me in his arm. I would normally expect him to start rambling about something to distract me, but Warren's awfully quiet. Maybe he's still half-asleep. I turn my head to the right to check his clock, the one on his desk that looks like Bill Murray's in _Groundhog Day._ It's 4.37am. Of course he would be zombie- _ish_. I gaze up and see his stare is also more serious than usual, fixed in some invisible point ahead of him. The only sign that indicates he's still aware of my presence is his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against my neck.

He realizes I'm staring at him and looks down, his expression almost transforming into his usual smile, but not quite there yet.

"How's your stomach?" he asks.

I'm put off by the question, but still I try to mentally check the state of my body.

"Not so good now that you mention it," I reply after realizing the lump in my throat seems to have gone downstairs.

"Is there a possibility of anything… coming out?"

I check again. Everything inside me feels heavy, as if I had to make an effort to send the air down my lungs, but other than that, there's not much going on.

"Not anymore," I say, though unsure. "At least, not anytime soon."

"Good." He nods, and goes back to staring into nothing.

"Aren't you going to check my pulse?"

Now his smile looks more like the one I know.

"I've already done that, actually."

I rethink the way his thumb was rubbing my neck, slowly but firmly. It wasn't an unconscious thing at all.

"That's fucking creepy." I chuckle. "How am I supposed to..?" I stop myself as I sense something odd inside me. "I think I may…"

Before I can even finish, Warren gets up and runs to get the trash can. In one quick movement, he empties it on the floor and hands it to me. I'm thankful he did that, because now I can bury my head inside it without him seeing me puking my guts out. I just wish the trash can was also soundproof so that he wouldn't have to hear me. My insides burn like hell and the smell is awful. Once the final coughs are over, I immediately take my head out.

"Take this." Warren is holding a small bottle of something, and my head is so dizzy I don't dare attempt grab it, but I know what he means. I lean into it and breathe in. It smells like him and it helps loosen up the knots in my stomach. He waits for a minute before handing me a bottle of water. "Now drink this, but don't swallow it, it's just to clean out the nasty taste."

I do as I'm told and spit once more inside the trash can. My throat feels so dry and sharp I really want to just drink up the whole bottle.

"Better?" He asks anxiously and I nod and swallow a good deal of saliva before speaking.

"Didn't know you were such a doctor." Speaking feels like sanding my insides. "Makes sense though."

"I happen to have PhD in _Night Terrors_ , among other things." He puts the trash can back on the floor next to the bed and sits by my side again. The mattress sinks a bit under his weight, causing my weak body to lean on him almost instantly.

"You knew I was going to throw up," I say as I let my head rest on him once more.

"I thought you might, but I didn't want to freak you out. You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

Just thinking about it clouds my vision again.

"No."

The slow and continuous raising and falling of his chest proves to have a soothing effect, and my tired mind begins to feel sleepy again. Besides, the crying and throwing up have drained all the energy from my body away. Hopefully, that'll be enough for me to pass out and think or dream of nothing till the morning comes. A good night's sleep, that's all I ask for. The last thing I can sense before drifting away is his chin resting on my head.

A soft knock on the door cuts my sleep short. I resist the urge to open my eyes, I'm so not ready to get up yet. Even through my eyelids I can see that from all the light in the room it has to be past midday, but my whole body weighs so much right now I can barely move. I've also come to realize my head is resting on Warren's chest, and it would be too embarrassing to get up, since he's probably woken up too. Hopefully whoever is knocking will just leave.

Another knock on the door, this time somewhat louder. Warren begins to move slowly beneath me and I let him lay me on the bed, still pretending to be asleep. Part of me is hoping that if I pretend long enough, soon I'll be sleeping again. I don't hear his barefoot steps but soon the door makes a squeaking sound. I spy from my right eye to see he's opened the door a bit, but not enough for me to be exposed.

"Hey Warren. Damn, did I wake you? I'm surprised, I thought you were an early bird."

I recognize Brooke's voice and _I_ 'm the one who's surprised. She's probably expecting to be let in, otherwise I guess she could have texted.

"Hi, Brooke, it's okay, I was binging on some shows till late last night." I can tell he's trying not to be too loud. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to ask you, remember that place I told you about in Newberg?"

"The drive-in? Sure."

"Well, today's the last day of the _Apes_ marathon…"

"Yeah, I know, I got the tickets by freaking chance." He sounds more awake now. "I'm going with Max this afternoon."

Oh, no.

"Seriously? You're going with _Max Caulfield_?" Her voice gets slightly pitchy and she mumbles a few things I don't catch. "And does she even know shit about the films?"

My eyes shoot open. Okay, I'm wide awake now.

"Actually, she does. But I don't need to…"

"Warren, look. I'm only gonna say this because I'm your friend, but, dude, you gotta get over it."

I really, really don't want to hear Angry Brooke right now. If only I could close my ears too.

"Brooke, listen, this isn't…"

"Everyone knows you're fucking in love with her. If you're looking to just bang her, then it's fine, but you can't expect her to care about you, 'cause she never will."

"Look, I don't know where you're coming from with this, but you don't know her like I do." His weight shifts from one foot to the other.

"Oh, like she knows you? Does she even know about Penny? Has she ever even cared to ask shit about your family?"

"Brooke…"

"I'm just saying it how it is. She's just a self-centered airhead who will use you to feel good about herself and then will dump your ass and forget about you. And I'll be…" I shut my eyes quickly as I notice she's peeping behind him. "Is that..?"

I hear the door squeak again and their voices now sound just a bit more distant. Warren's speaking, but I don't get to grasp his words. I do hear Brooke once more before she leaves.

"Right. Well. Enjoy yourselves."

The door finally closes and Warren sighs a long sigh along with a whispered _"Jesus"._ I try to look serene and in deep sleep but I'm sure the bright colors in my face are giving me away. I feel the mattress sink under his weight, but this time he's only sitting. After a minute or so of silence, he finally speaks.

"I know you're awake," I hear him whisper and, since there's not much point in pretending any further, I open my eyes. He's looking down at me, his eyes still sleepy, which actually makes him look kinda cute. It's nice to see the black bruise was never there. "I'm sorry about that. Brooke is not usually like that at all. She's just…"

" _Jealous_. I noticed. It's okay"

"How much of it did you hear?"

"From the first knock? Everything." I chuckle but it turns into a weird cough that shakes whatever is left inside me and forces me to sit up.

Warren straightens his back and I believe he's ready to go into full inspector mode again.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Graham asks.

"Not bad," I reply and this time I'm not lying. "Thank you for… taking care of me. But I'm starting to think Brooke was right about me."

"What? What are you talking about?" His eyebrows rise to post-bangs level.

"I'm not that good of a friend. Most of the time I've done nothing but talk about myself and make you worry about me."

Warren waits until I raise my eyes and look back at him before replying.

"Max. You've just lost a friend. You're entitled to talk about whatever you want and not give two shits about anything else. Anyone who wouldn't understand that is an ass."

I hug my knees close my chest, only half-convinced, and focus on keeping my mind from wandering down that path. My eyes stroll from my feet to the _Princess Mononoke_ cover to the boy sitting by my side who's rubbing his eyelids.

"You know your bed hair looks like right out of some anime, don't you?" I say as I lay my cheek on top of my left knee.

"That right there is the best compliment I've ever been given." He laughs and fingers at some of the uneven strands to try and comprehend its shape. "I think my mom said something similar once but she meant it as an insult. Wait… which one were you going for?"

"Guess you'll never know." I give him my best evil smirk.

"You sure you feel okay?" he asks again, half-jokingly and I roll my eyes in response.

"It's your turn now, tell me about your week. How has it been?"

"Hm…" Warren leans back against the wall and twists his lips as he thinks. "I don't know, shit has been pretty crazy. The Jefferson thing caught us by surprise. But worst of all… I got a B- in science."

"You may need to sort out your priorities."

"Thank you, Ron Weasley. At least I could use all the drama as an excuse with my parents for being distracted in class, though… they didn't buy it."

"They're really that hard?"

"You could say that. Being the only _and_ genius kid ain't easy. What about your parents? You never told me, how did that go?"

I think of my conversation with mom and dad yesterday and frown upon revisiting their offer.

"Fine, I guess. They… want me to go back to Seattle."

"Oh. And do _you_?"

"No. Even with everything that's happened… I like it here. I feel more at home. But try and explain that to them."

"Well… can't say I'm not glad you feel that way." Warren smiles warmly and then quickly looks away. "I mean, everyone would miss you."

' _Brooke would be delighted'_ I think, but I don't dare say it out loud.

"Anyway, I'm sure Ms Grant will give you something else to keep that 4.0 GPA."

"Yeah, I hope so. Other than that, things have been uneventful… Oh, I did have this uber bizarre dream the other day."

"Tell me _all_ about it," I encourage him in my _responsible psychiatrist_ voice though I fear I might regret this.

"I think it was Friday night… no, Thursday. I had this dream in which I was at The Two Whales, but in the middle of the night."

"Did you skip your meals before going to bed again?" Now I've changed to my 'mom' tone.

"Maybe. But it gets weirder. There was this fucking huge storm destroying the whole town."

The cheesy smile I had on disappears instantly.

"R-really?" I manage to utter in poorly-feigned unaffectedness.

"It was crazy vivid. I don't always remember dreams, but this one felt… so fucking real. I was trapped there."

I think if I wasn't making the conscious effort to send the air in and out of my lungs, my body would have given up by now. I need him to tell me this has nothing to do with what I witnessed.

"And… did you manage to get out?"

"No, in fact…" Warren glances at me and then shakes his head while scratching his scalp. "I don't remember much."

"You just said you did."

"Yeah, well… not all of it. But it was mental."

"Was someone else with you?" I push further, my patience slowly fading away.

"Joyce I think. And then... some other people from town…" He hesitates to go on. "Maybe you were there at some point too."

"And what did I do?"

"You…" Warren's expression shifts when he looks at me. "Hey, your nose is bleeding."

"Shit." I wipe my face with the back of my hand quickly and see the red stain mix on my skin with the watercolor ones from our late night art session.

"Here," he says as he takes some tissues and hands them to me.

The idea that anyone from this timeline, reality, or whatever I'm supposed to call it, could have any kind of memories had never crossed my mind. It… freaks me out. On the one hand, things would be so much easier if I could share everything with someone. On the other hand… even thinking about it has given me a nosebleed. That kind of feels like a warning to keep my mind off it at all costs. Not to mention the exorcism-worthy experience I got from my nightmare.

"Those were supposed to go to your nose." Warren smirks pointing to the tissues I'm still holding onto tightly.

"Right" I blink and wipe the blood that has now made its way to my lips. "It's nothing. Too much excitement for this time of the day."

Warren's mouth opens and closes again without a word escaping. Given my history of insisting on everything being okay, he's probably opted for letting this one pass. After just a few wipes, the blood has stopped, leaving only an awkward silence behind. I stare at the color stains on my hand and fingers and turn back to him.

"Hey, you never showed me what you were drawing last night."

His kind-of-serious face changes instantly to one of shyness that makes him look at least two years younger.

"Oh yeah... it's no big deal..."

"Is Warren Graham being modest about his work? For real? Let me grab my camera."

"I'm just saying I wanted to work on it a bit longer before showing it off."

"So you got to see me screw up on mine multiple times, plus laughed at me for drinking the watercolors water but I'm not allowed to see the fruit of your labor?"

"You did drink from that cup _twice_." He finally nods and goes to his computer.

I wait patiently as he browses through his many folders searching for the image. I've heard him boast about his digital skills before, but I haven't had the chance to actually see them in action. Once he finds the file, he leaves the mouse cursor over it and stops.

"Okay. I may have taken your direction quite loosely," he says, his eyes not looking away from the screen.

"I literally took a selfie and told you to do whatever you wanted with it. You could go as loose as it goes."

Not without warning me a few more times about the unfinished state of his work, Warren clicks on it at last. The screen is filled with what was once just a simple scanned polaroid, but now looks more like the digital artwork of a fantasy epic.

"Wowser" I mumble under my breath, because no other word comes to mind. I have to walk up to the computer to get a closer look.

"I know the doe is like your spirit animal so I thought it'd be a nice touch…" he adds, waiting for me to say something else.

On the screen, the colors of my skin take a tanner shade; I have white spots for freckles on my cheeks and nose, and a pair of delicate furry ears pop from the sides of my head. The background looks as if it was painted with watercolors, in different shades of green, while some small details in the shape of leaves and flowers come to life closer to my figure, some of them on my skin as well. I look like some magical doe goddess.

"This looks fucking fantastic. Seriously, it's one of the coolest things I've ever seen," I say wide-eyed. "How come you'd never shown me anything before?"

"If I'd known you'd make that face, I would have done it much earlier." He chuckles as I sit back on the edge of the bed. "I've actually got a couple photo manipulations I could show you..."

There's no trace whatsoever of the previous shyness he displayed, but even though I'm curious to learn more about this side of him, something tells me it's a lengthy path to endeavor, and right now I've got way too many needs to attend to.

"You'll have to show me all your stuff next time. Now I should go humanize myself a bit."

"Right, me too." Warren closes the file and spins his chair back to me. "Gotta answer the call of nature and everything."

"Exactly." I nod and put my shoes on.

"Try not to go _too_ human though, remember we're going ape this evening. Meet you at the parking lot at 5?"

I agree and gather all my things before walking out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I almost believe I'll manage to get away without being seen once more, but when I turn round the corner, I spot Justin sitting on the floor right outside Trevor's door. However, his eyes look dazed and confused, and he doesn't seem to realize there's another human being a few feet away so I tiptoe my way out, hoping he's too high to notice me.

On the way to my bedroom, I'm thinking off all the things I should do today before going to the drive-in - which only really consist of showering, choosing something comfy to wear for the road trip, watering Lisa, having lunch, finding something else to keep myself busy with- when I almost collide with a preteen.

"Oh, Max!" She shouts and throws her arms around me. There's another girl by her side with the same look of shock I must have on my face, and she immediately pulls the hugger back from her shoulders.

"Lynn! You can't ambush her like that!" She shoots her an angry glare through her glasses.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The petite blonde steps back and looks at me apologetically but still amused. "But Kate's been talking so much about you, I feel like you're my friend too."

I take a second look at these girls. The shorter one can't be older than thirteen, her eager expression making her look even younger. Her eyes are deep blue, and golden locks fall tidily past each shoulder of hers. The other one is wearing thick glasses over brown eyes, and her hair might as well be made out of the same wig as her little sister's. It only takes me a few seconds to recognize them as the girls in Kate's pictures.

"You're Kate's sisters. Samantha and Lynn, right?" I smile back at them. I'd memorized those names after I was unable to remember them to save Kate's life.

"Please, call me Sam. It's really nice to meet you."

"It is! We've heard so much about you." Lynn agrees grinning before I can reply. "Thank you so much for being there for Kate these past few days. She's been going through so much, we're happy to know she wasn't alone."

"That's what friends are for."

"We're so glad it's all over" Lynn goes on and crosses her small arms over her chest. "I just hope those who wronged her burn in hell."

"You keep perpetuating stereotypes when you speak like that" Sam scolds her again. "But yeah, I hope so too."

I chuckle at their interaction and they laugh with me. I never imagined Kate's sisters like this. But that's probably because I mostly thought of them as mourning her. Seeing them in the flesh, cheerful and teasing each other is quite refreshing.

"Kate showed us the selfies you guys took together the other day." Lynn still has her dreamy eyes on. "And Kate _never_ takes selfies. I loved seeing her so… Oh my!" She suddenly picks up my paint-and-blood-stained hand. "Is that paint on your hand? As in watercolors? That is so _arsty_!"

"Lynn, it's _ARTsy_. Seriously, how hard is it to…?"

The eldest sister comes out of the restroom then, causing both of them to instantly cease arguing.

"Okay, I'm ready. Is Daddy already..?" She then catches sight of me and smiles widely. "Oh Max! I see you've met my sisters."

"We were just talking about you!" Lynn speaks yet again before me. "Max is _so_ cool."

"Lynn's already smothering her. I would start looking for a new friend." Sam shakes her head in feigned disapproval.

"Forgive them if they were being rude…" Kate mocks them with playfully narrowed eyes.

"Not at all. I'm happy I've met them."

"Do you really have a retro camera?" The youngest sister is back on the Max-worshipping train. "Can I see it?"

"That's it, Lynn, you sound like a total groupie." Sam wraps her arm around her and pulls her down the hall. "Dad's waiting, let's go."

The two girls and I exchange goodbyes and nice-meeting-you's before they walk away, already bantering about something else. I stare at the back of their heads moving freely, their hair swinging with every step they take. Lynn's voice sounds high and loud, giving away her age.

"Sorry about Lynn. She's a natural enthusiast for anything that… Well, for pretty much anything." Kate chuckles.

"They are both really nice." I smile at the thought of the girl's wide eyes and Samantha's scolding expression. "So I guess everything went well?"

"Not quite." She makes a poor attempt to smile that actually looks really sad. "It's my mother, she… she couldn't make it to Arcadia. I should have known, she's been very busy."

From Kate's expression and the tone of her voice I gather Mrs. Marsh hasn't gotten over the party scandal. The fact that woman would keep this up even after Jefferson was arrested baffles me, but at least the rest of her family is here for her.

"I'm sorry, Kate."

"She probably needs more time…" Kate looks down and plays with the rings in her fingers. "It's just that… I haven't talked about it with them. The things I told you the other day over tea… I can't tell them anything about that. And I'm not even good at keeping secrets, especially not from my sisters. I know they feel bad about me and if they knew… It feels like I'm lying to them."

I'm not sure I understand what exactly she's referring to, but hell, can I relate to that feeling.

"It'll get easier, I promise," I assure her, though I'm not quite the best living example. "You just go and have a nice day with them, don't worry about anything else."

"Thanks, Max." At least this time the corners of her lips rise a bit higher.

"I guess we all have our family baggage," I think out loud and Kate tilts her head. "Warren was just telling me about his parents being mad over his one B-."

"Oh, that sounds awful." She then takes a second look at me, as if she has just noticed my shabby appearance. "You were just coming back?"

"Oh… well… yeah…"

"It's okay, you don't owe me any explanations. I know you're not into my abstinence campaign…"

"Oh no! No, it's-s not what you think," I hurry to say but my stammering doesn't help. The whole idea of talking about this with Kate is just too awkward for my brain to handle. "I hadn't had any coffee last night and we were watching some shows and I fell asleep… that's it."

"It's fine." Kate smiles but I still can't tell whether she believes me or not. "You guys are still going to the drive-in, right?"

"Yeah, we're leaving in a few hours."

"Well, let me know how it goes." Kate pulls her _Max-and-Warren-sitting-on-a-tree_ smile. "I should get going now."

I say goodbye to her, still feeling embarrassed about the last part of our exchange, and lock myself in my room. The need to get out of the clothes I slept in is strong, I feel like I'm walking around in my pajamas. Once I'm done showering and changing clothes - nothing bold, just my usual jeans, t-shirt and a sweater in case it gets cold - I manage to tick off everything else in my to-do list with way too much time ahead of me.

With that realization, I turn my stereo on, sit on my bed and bring the Captain to my chest. The poor teddy-bear has fought too many battles for his small size, made evident by his faded colors and sewn-up rips with a bit of stuffing coming out between the threads. I wonder if that's what my body looks like inside, all torn up and held up together by not-so-safe stitches that will let a nosebleed or spontaneous crying out every now and then. I wonder how long those threads can hold everything in.

The sound of rhythmic guitar strings helps ease my brain, which still feels exhausted seeing I didn't sleep much last night, and whenever I was unconscious it didn't feel like resting at all. I close my eyes and try not to think of my dream with Chloe, which leads me to go over Brooke's little outburst, to wonder who the hell ' _Penny'_ is and why Brooke would bring that up, to wonder what Kate was talking about, then back to Chloe. Even pronouncing her name in my mind is painful. If she were here, she would clear my head in a heartbeat taking me on another crazy adventure.

I blur those thoughts out and focus on the image Warren showed me before. It immediately brings a smile to my face and makes me hug the Captain tighter to my chest. The Max in that image looked so imposing yet serene, beautiful and graceful. I wouldn't even think of using any of those words to describe myself, but it was nice seeing he could somehow bring those qualities to my picture. Note to self: I should ask him to e-mail it to me later.

I feel like I've just began to actually rest when the beeping sound from my phone shakes me awake and the Captain flies from my chest to the bed. I automatically reach for the device and see that I've somehow slept through Warren's five texts, and it's now 5.10. Shit, I'm already ten minutes late. I don't even bother to read his messages now, instead I jump from my bed and check myself quickly in the mirror before leaving the dorms. All the way to the parking lot I keep trying to fit my sweater inside my bag but there seems to be no room for it. Warren is leaning by the side of his car, and I see his face light up when he catches sight of me.

"Hey, I was beginning to think I'd have to go ape myself."

"I'm so sorry!" I start saying while still struggling with my things.

I've almost reached the car when I realize the problem is I've stupidly put both my bulky camera and William's inside the bag, leaving virtually no room for anything else. Still keeping my fast pace, I try and juggle with them but in one quick movement my camera slips from my hands. I stop breathing as I watch it jump through the air and land violently on the ground, pieces scattering just a few feet away from Warren.

"Shit!" Warren's eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. He immediately bends down and picks everything up as I stare blankly at the place where the camera hit the floor, convinced it's the exact same spot where I fell the second time it was shattered last Monday, when Nathan Prescott pushed me to the ground. The realization is unpleasant and makes me cringe. "This doesn't look good… You ok?"

"Uhm, yeah, no. I mean… that was… bound to happen." I try and slowly recover from the shock. "I'm such a fucking clutz."

"I was thinking of scolding you for being so fashionably late, but now I just feel bad." He hands me the camera and the loose parts, careful not to drop any pieces.

I take a closer look at it and find this is probably the worst it's ever been. The flash bar's split into two, all glasses are cracked, and given the front part has separated itself from the rest, there are a lot of inside little fragments I've no idea what to do with.

"So? What's the diagnosis, doc? Will it live?" Warren's also staring nervously at it, but he probably already knows the answer.

I take one final look at the camera, thinking maybe it was never meant to live past this week, and force myself to smile.

"I say I shall worry about that later. We should be on our way."

"Aye aye, captain." Warren nods and opens the passenger door for me in exaggerated chivalry.

With a thankful nod, I get in the car and wrap the camera or what's left of it inside my sweater, so as to keep it all pieces together but also to keep me from seeing it like that every time I look inside my bag. I watch Warren walk around the car and I take notice of the print on the back of his t-shirt, the bottom part of a TARDIS coming out of an orange portal. A moment later, he jumps into his seat, and evidently, the other half of the machine is there at the front with the blue portal.

"Are all of your clothes this geeky?" I say teasingly.

"Is there any other type of clothing?"

And so our journey begins.

* * *

 **A/N: Double chapter today! Sorry this took longer to upload, I found there were so many things wrong with it originally that I had to rewrite almost the entire chapter. Hopefully it was worth the wait? Yes? No? Hated it?**

 **Your reviews make me so happy! I've been writing fan fiction for a few years now, but this is my first time posting anything, so I really truly appreciate it. Plus, I haven't read a single LIS fanfiction because I didn't want mine to be… biased? Is that the word? (and yeah English is not my first language!) So I've no idea what I'm doing. Just writing the story I'd like to read.**

 **Again, thank you to everyone who has taken their time to read and review this story!**


	6. Chapter 6

"I can see the smoke coming out of your head."

"I just have a lot in my mind."

"Well, you're gonna sink if you don't drop some of the cargo."

"I'm gonna sink if you keep pulling at my feet…"

"Gotta do something to keep you here, now where the hell are you?"

"I was thinking of my talk earlier with Kate… "' _Don't worry'_ and ' _it'll get easier_ '? Man, that was so lame. I might as well just patted her on the back."

"There you go again, bitching about what a terrible friend you are. It's getting old, sister."

"Well I remember you being an expert on reminding me about it, even though you weren't the best example either."

"Are we done blaming it on the dead girl?"

"…I'm not as okay as you think I am with you saying that."

"I know, that's why I do it."

"…"

"…"

"So you're still worried about her?"

"Kate? Yeah. Did you… I mean, I know these past few years were pretty shit. Did you ever..?"

"Try to kill myself?"

"…"

"I thought about it, but I never went through with it."

"But... If we're just in my head, then I can't know anything I don't already know. So if I'm asking, how do _you_ know the answer?"

"Because I was still alive a week ago, smartass."

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean. But deep down, in some dark corner of your mind, you already know the answer. You heard it in something I said or read it in something I wrote."

"Maybe… That sucks."

"Yeah."

"… But I guess you can't answer what got you through it?"

"Probably Rachel. Or even my mom. When you feel that low, I guess only people who really care about you can lift you up."

"… Hm… I just thought… I thought Kate would be all better now that most her family back her up, Jefferson is behind bars..."

"Like I said, _I_ didn't go through with it. Kate did. Even if she got her vendetta or whatever…"

"Justice."

"Right, her ' _justice'_ or whatever, the bullying and all that shit was just the trigger. That girl wanted to die. She jumped off a fucking roof. That roots hella deeper."

"You think she still wants to kill herself?"

"Probably not. But you can't expect her to be Miss Sunshine anytime soon."

"I guess… I do wonder what she was talking about…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I really like this, this moment here. Please, don't let it become another nightmare."

"You're the only one who can do that, Max. You said it yourself, we're in your head, so it's up to you."

"Are you _inception_ ing me?"

"I wouldn't know, never watched that pretentious flick."

"You're such a snob."

"I ain't, that's the point. I bet your dorky toy boy did watch it."

"You're seriously going there?"

"What? You two little nerds are going on the geekiest date ever."

"This is _so_ not a date."

"Perhaps you should double-check with your _Dr. Graham_."

"Oh just shut up."

"You know, the lights go out and you two go ape for real."

"Chloe..."

"Though you should try not to toss your cookies on him this time. Or maybe he'll hold your hair back while you do it."

"I'm warning you."

"Wait, he's not even eighteen yet, is he? Would that make you a child abuser?"

"Okay, you asked for it."

"Come and get me, you skinny otter!"

* * *

 **A/N: I've had this one for a while now, I'm uploading it with the sole purpose of putting pressure on myself so I'll get next chapter no later than next week. I've been having exams and then I started procrastinating like hell and lost the rhythm. It's coming back.**

 **Thank you for your patience and specially for the last reviews which have made me feel all warm and fuzzy. And if you want to add pressure, too, go ahead. Pressure's always well-received.**


	7. Chapter 7

**This one goes to Marcus and Firebird 41 because you guys are awesome.**

* * *

A small bump in the road causes the car to jump a bit, and my head to knock on the window, instantly waking me up. I bring my hand to the side of my forehead where it hurts, though the sound it made was far worse than the actual hit.

"Sorry, I didn't see it in time," Warren apologizes at my left.

"Did I fall asleep?" I ask as I rub the sleepy tear from the side of my right eye.

" _For a little while_ ," He replies and gives me that look he gives when he's expecting me to deliver some punchline. This time, I just look at him in confusion and he frowns. "Girl, you disappoint me. We gotta work on your Whedon education. I'll let this one go just because you were pretty much a vegetable a minute ago."

I process this information and reach the conclusion that my sleeping patterns have gone to hell. The worst part is I still feel exhausted. I glance out of the window and see nothing but pines by the road, pushing up some heavy clouds, though the wind is giving them a fight. I've no idea where we are.

"Maybe if you hadn't insisted on watching Death Note for the hundredth time we could have watched something new," I say, after licking my post-napping dry lips.

"But I hadn't watched it in ages! I don't even remember what will be of Will Penber. Such a cool dude."

"Right. You were citing every line by heart."

"Well, my brain seems to mysteriously erase certain pieces of information so that I can enjoy rewatching things thoroughly, without the tedious threat of spoilers."

"You are so full of…" I stop myself when I hear a far but loud noise from the outside. "Was that a thunder?"

"Maybe." He shrugs.

I'm starting to think this wasn't the best day for this kind of activity, but I don't want to say it out loud, especially given I was the one who suggested going. Besides, Warren is in his highly optimistic mood and I don't want to bring him down. I try and think of the least pessimistic way to mention the weather and have a go at it.

"Yeah, I guess it's fine. I mean, even if it rains, they must be prepared for it." I haven't even finished that sentence when my stomach growls furiously.

"Am I to assume you always wake up with a vicious, _kanoashi_ -like hunger?" He asks in amusement.

"That's... Probably accurate."

"It's okay, we still have a little time to pick up something on the go. I think Wendy's is just on our way, is that okay?"

"Bacon baked potatoes? I'm in."

"That's what I thought. We'll be there in... 7 minutes."

And exactly seven minutes later I see the sign that reads _"Welcome to Newberg – A great place to grow"_. I shouldn't be surprised, Warren's a human calculator - and a bit of a control freak. I can almost see the little screws spinning in his head as his sight shifts continuously from the road ahead of him to the watch on his left wrist, as if he could actually manipulate time.

The town is not much unlike Arcadia Bay, a small fishing site with a _Twin-Peaks_ -ish vibe. I bet it's not as eventful, though that can only really be said of the last few days. A month ago, my hometown used to be the dullest spot in America. The speeding limit seems to be bugging Warren a lot, along with every car that happens to block our way, threatening to ruin his precious little calculations. His fingers keep tapping against the wheel repeatedly, and he's holding onto it so tight I wouldn't be surprised to see it break. As he gets more and more impatient, I grow more afraid to ask what I need to tell him. I wait until the Wendy's sign is in sight, and decide I can no longer postpone it.

"You know, I may also need to... Use the restroom," I finally say looking sheepishly at him.

He ponders on this for a few seconds before replying.

"Hmm. Well if you want, I can get the food while you go."

I get the feeling that even though he said " _if you want_ ", this isn't optional.

"Sure. Every minute counts, right?"

"Very well, my young padawan."

Judging by the free spaces on the parking lot, there aren't many people at the fast food restaurant this evening so this should be a quick transaction. I get off the car and find the wind outside is even stronger than it appeared to be. As a result, my bangs keep getting in my face and tears are springing out of my eyes in a matter of seconds. I glance at Warren walking by my side and laugh at his narrowed eyes and the hell of a mess he's got for hair, though mine probably looks worse. I'm deeply relieved when we're finally inside the warm hall, and start scanning for the lady's sign.

"So I'll go order while you…" Warren trails off though he doesn't wait for an answer as he heads to the counter.

I find the door I was looking for and head in that direction while trying to fix my clothes which have also suffered from the weather outside. Four other girls have apparently had the same plan as me, queuing outside the restroom. Thank God it's not Warren who has to wait, this setback would make him enter Jack Nicholson mode.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other impatiently as I hear the girls' chatter, something about a look some Matt gave the brunette in Science class and whether that means he likes her, since he's a Scorpio - something that apparently is " _like, super important_ ". I somehow find the conversation fascinating, just because this is what keeps normal teenagers awake at night. Not murders or suicides or a psychopath teacher. Just a look exchanged with a Scorpio at school. I can't even remember what it felt like not to see Rachel's body every time I close my eyes, or hearing Chloe scream or… I focus back on the girl's story. Maybe I'll eventually go back to caring about zodiac signs and boys... Not that I ever did, actually.

The girls enter the restroom one by one and so do I, never finding out what the hell's so special about a Scorpio. As I head back to the counter I notice the bags with our food are already lying there, ready for us to take, but Warren's talking to someone. What really grabs my attention is the girl on the other side of the counter. She's smiling widely as she listens to him attentively, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag.

"That was my favorite season finale, when they said goodbye," I hear her say as I approach them. Her voice is nice and high-pitched, worthy of a Disney princess.

"Yeah, I think that was everyone's favorite…" Warren replies and then notices me. "Great, ready to go?"

"Sure." I nod absentmindedly.

As soon as the girl takes in my presence, she pushes the bags to us, smiles swiftly and walks back to the kitchen. Warren takes a quick glance at his watch before taking the food without a second look at her. I walk by his side, trying to keep up with his hurried pace.

But I can't help myself, I need to say it.

"You sure you're not forgetting anything?" I ask him with a playful smile. "Some ketchup, salt, maybe her number?"

"No, I've already… What?" He stops for a second, then pushes the door to leave.

"You two had something going on there." I follow him and feel the wind annoyingly enter my mouth as I speak.

"No, we didn't. She said she liked my shirt, that's all. She was a nerd."

"She was hitting on you!"

"No, why would you… You think so?" Warren looks back to where the counter must be, but it's hardly visible from the outside.

"You're so clueless." I chuckle and for a moment, he looks like he's going to say something, but then he just gets in the car, and so do I.

There's no further mention of the Wendy's girl, or I should say there's no time for it in Warren's calculations. As soon as we're back on the street, I can already guess where the drive-in is because of the line of cars that's waiting to get in, but I'm distracted by the clouds up in the sky which keep getting darker. Maybe I've developed some kind of storm phobia? I wonder if there's an actual name for that. There has to be. I make a mental note to Google it when I get back to Blackwell, since the signal in my phone has proven to be awful here.

One after the other, the cars get into the lot and find a place of their liking. There are several poles marking the different parking spots and, after having our tickets checked, Warren drives into the site and stops on a decent one where he can finally relax and officially stops glancing at his watch.

I can't keep my nose off the window, this place is everything I thought it'd be and more. The fact that the lot's surrounded by dark towering pines makes for a perfect atmosphere and I have to roll down the glass to take in the scent. However, I'm once more slapped by a fierce gust of wind, which hides the smell of pines under the much stronger smell of the upcoming storm. Perhaps the Max from a few weeks ago would have rejoiced in all things related to rain, but now I can see no romance in it, only destruction. I hurry to close the window and open the paper bag to search for food that can calm my anxiety.

"Just like the _kanoashi_." Warren shakes his head as he observes me going through the packages.

"Can't a girl satiate her hunger without being judged?" I say once I've found my glorious burger and baked potato.

"The objectifying shallow society promoting unhealthy body standards says no."

"Well, I say ' _fuck them'_."

"And you do well."

Warren joins in taking his own burger to his mouth, one that has way too much cheddar, even for my liking.

"So you remember George Taylor's life story?" He asks, his mouth still half full of meat and bread and cheese.

"Oh please, you're not putting me through this again, are you?" I dread taking another one of his tests.

"Just the vital information you need in order to comprehend the extents of…"

"Fine, fine" I interrupt him and roll my eyes. "He's the dude who travels to this crazy planet, where lots of crazy ape shit happens, but in the end he finds out…"

"Woah, woah, don't spoil it!"

"Seriously, we watched that part two nights ago!"

"But you're not supposed to know it."

"You really are the ultimate geek."

"Thank you." He does take it as a compliment. "Now try and forget everything you know about it."

Just for the sake of my patience and to avoid hearing another lecture from Mr. Graham, I pretend to comply and move on to my bacon potatoes. The smell of fast food in the car is strong, but I'm not about to open the window again. Once Warren finishes his own burger, he explains to me that the sound of the film will come out through the radio, though finding the right station proves to be more challenging than he expected. I don't miss the chance to make fun of him for that, which results in him taking my Coke as a hostage for the time being. I pretend not to care, even if I'm dying to drink something that'll help the food down.

It's already raining by the time the movie starts, but the sound from the radio does a pretty good job of burying all of the outside noise. I glance at Warren at my left, there's a huge grin on his face, as if this were the moment he's been waiting for his whole life. I can't help but smile at the sight of it, and I must admit I'm quite excited myself. I guess I should tick this experience off my hipster bucket list.

This time I'm not going to cry, I've embarrassed myself enough already. I'll keep my emotions at bay and at the tiniest sign of affliction I'll just focus on how funny the apes look. At least that's my plan for now.

I'm not really sure how or when it's happened, but my body has apparently given up at some point and I've come to be leaning against Warren's right arm. I only notice this as the screen shows Taylor beginning his writing on the sand and Warren whispers into my hair, _"Don't you dare fall asleep now"_. My eyes still fixated on the picture, I turn my head a bit and whisper back, _"I won't"_. His back tenses up immediately and I realize I've spoken and breathed into his neck, which sends a weird crushing heat to my cheeks.

What am I, a child? Since when did I get this nervous about boys? No, not boys. It's Warren. Warren I-threw-up-in-front-of-and-fell-asleep-on Graham. I don't get nervous around him and anyway, why would I? I do not wish to mess this up or mess my mind up by overthinking about it. This is all Chloe's fault. I wish she hadn't said anything about it being a date, which is clearly not, and the whole thing is distracting me from the part of the film I'm not supposed to miss. Warren snaps me out of it as he turns his head to the side in my direction. He clears his throat a bit before speaking.

"You know, I wanted…" He stops himself as every shape, every light, everything but the storming sky goes completely dark and the radio turns into white noise. "What the…"

I sit up and rub on the fogged glass at my right. Nothing is visible outside except for the lights of some cars and the distant flashes of lightning. The thick rain doesn't help much either, creating a coat that fades everything into grey.

"Total blackout?" I ask, after checking everywhere is just as dark as it was at my right.

"So it seems." Warren looks beyond disappointed at the turn of events.

"They're probably already working to solve it and it'll be back in no time," I attempt to reassure him and he nods, only a quarter-convinced.

For a few minutes the only sound that keeps playing is that of the rain and sporadic thunder, which is weird since Warren never wastes a chance to fill an awkward silence with even more awkward talk. Right now he just looks deep in thought and I can't help but think that the darkness and the tap of raindrops on the windows would make for a perfect napping setup…

" _Now_ you may have a really hard time keeping me awake," I say half-jokingly, I'm aware my brain is struggling to unplug.

"You remind me," Warren starts, suddenly coming back from wherever his mind was. "This one time I was being stupid on a skateboard - I couldn't even stand on it for more than a minute but I hadn't given up trying - and I think I just lost balance or something, but I was going so fucking fast when I fell that I hit my head open. I think I still have a scar somewhere." He scratches the back of his head, his fingers attempting to meet the old mark. "And it was like three in the morning and I had a long way to the hospital, and since I could have a concussion this friend of mine was trying to keep me awake. So we played this game to keep me talking. You ask something personal you want to know about the other person, but they can't ask you the same thing back. And you have to be one hundred percent honest, but you can also be as vague as you want. Finally, the Double Jeopardy Clause applies: you cannot ask about the same thing twice."

"Why so many rules?" I ask as I try to take everything in, it's probably the longest speech I've heard from him in a good while.

"Probably to make my brain work harder and concentrate on staying awake."

"I guess… So basically I should think of things I'd like to know about you but I wouldn't necessarily want _you_ knowing about _me_?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Hmm… and who was your friend, the one who made it up?"

"Penny."

"And who… I can't ask about her now, can I?"

"Fast learner." He nods, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Now let's see… Childhood crush?"

"Colin Hunter from first grade. He was one of the first to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels. Now I'm actually curious to know yours."

"I think that's the beauty of this game. You shall forever wonder."

"Fine." I roll my eyes and think of something better to ask. "Current crush?"

Warren straightens his back and seems to think carefully before answering.

"Emma Stone."

"Really? Isn't she too mainstream for you?"

"Hey, you're a bigger hipster than I am. She's damn perfect. Plus, freckles."

"Ugh, I've always hated mine." I take my fingertips to my nose as if I could feel the ugly little spots on my skin.

"You can't be serious, they're the best thing about your face," Warren complains in genuine surprise and then shrugs. "I mean, you know, all the coolest chicks have freckles. Mary-Jane… er… Emma Stone…"

"Right. Your turn."

"Alright… first kiss?"

"Well… it wasn't that long ago. It was... With a friend. Under very… _peculiar_ circumstances."

"Such mystery." He scratches his chin.

"You said I could be as vague as I wanted and I'm sticking to it. Worst nickname someone's ever given you?"

"Hmm. Dysentery Graham."

"… What? Okay, I don't wanna hear the story behind that."

"You do well. What's the most badass thing you've ever said to a bully?"

"… Eat shit and die."

"Damn!" A childish laugh escapes his mouth. "Please tell me you said that to Victoria."

"You're breaking your own rules!"

"Hey, I didn't create them. But you're right. Go on."

"Failed childhood dream?"

"I wanted to be an astronaut." He replies. "And I don't mean it like every kid, I would spend _hours_ at the library reading about space and looking at pictures. I would literally stare at different constellations in books all afternoon. Then I got a computer and realized it was much cooler."

"You could still be an astronaut, I meant something that you now know will _never_ be part of your plans."

"And it won't." He simply adds and goes on. "Best friend from childhood?"

"Chloe Price."

"Right… That was a stupid thing to ask. Sorry."

"It's okay. Worst day ever?"

"You do realize how negative all of your questions are, right? November 17th."

"What happened…? Oh, right."

The silly game is driving me crazy. My nosy nature is killing me, I want to know his answers to all those stupid questions, even if they aren't that big, just because they're something he won't be telling me. It goes on for a good while, succeeding in its purpose of keeping me awake and talking through the soothing sound of the rain outside. Then one question catches me off guard.

"If you could travel back in time…" he starts but I cut him short.

"That cannot be a serious question."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"You're supposed to ask personal things, not some hypothetical bullshit."

"But I was going to say…"

"I'll… pass."

By the look on Warren's face, he's not close to giving up.

"You cannot pass," he states, his eyes wide. "And why would you, before even hearing the question?"

"Why would I want to think about that? Time-traveling stories never end well."

"Some do."

"Name one."

" _Steins;gate_."

"First of all, spoiler alert. And second… it probably doesn't make sense anyway."

"It does actually, but you'll only know that once you watch it. What about _Back to the future_?"

"That movie does not even try to be realistic. If it were, Marty's family would die or lead an awful life."

"That's basically the plot of _Back to the future 2_."

"Well I… haven't watched that one yet."

These groundbreaking news distract him from our little argument.

"You _what_?!" I could have told him I'd murdered kittens and he probably wouldn't be as shocked. "How could… Jesus. If I'd known…"

"Fine, fine, I'll let you pick it for our next marathon." I say and he looks sort of pleased. "But only if you ask something different."

He only hesitates for half a second before speaking.

"Why did you come to Blackwell?"

I sigh and buff at the thought of my answer. Maybe I should have stuck to the time-traveling question.

"Because of Mark Jefferson. I stupidly thought of him as the best thing that had happened to this town." I cringe at this and notice Warren looks thoughtful. "What is it?"

"Well it's just… We still don't know how involved he was in everything. I mean, sure, the guy looks shady, but maybe he's not…"

"He's not what?" I almost spit out. I wish I could ignore the crisp image that comes to my mind, that psycho speaking of 'breaking' Kate.

"Maybe he's not as bad as they're making him out to be. You know how rumors work and I just don't want to judge him without…"

"Rumors? Are you kidding me?" My ears have just gone on fire, along with my eyes, my brain, the car, the rain, and everything around me. "The guy's been arrested. What more evidence do you need? Wasn't Nathan, the dark room, the binders, enough?"

I make use of the little sanity I've got left to avoid mentioning Jefferson shooting Chloe and drugging and kidnapping me, among many other things no one will ever hear about. However, judging by the look on Warren's face, I might as well have just said that, since he's staring at me in absolute confusion. He twists his mouth, as if the next words that'll come out of it will only do so after careful examination.

"I'm… Not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Then tell me, what _do_ you know?" I haven't even noticed when my breathing became this heavy.

"Well… I overheard some cops at the Two Whales talking… Nathan's head's pretty messed up so his testimony isn't that reliable."

"But the dark room…" I keep saying, and once again I get that look of tilted-head confusion.

"They found _a_ dark room Nathan mentioned, but it was empty. There's nothing directly linking Mr. Jefferson to Nathan other than his words."

"But…" It takes me a few seconds to digest this information. "Does that mean… He could walk out free?"

"Maybe. Like I said, they don't seem to have much against him."

"That's bullshit." I bite my bottom lip so hard it hurts. The car is feeling smaller and more constricted by the second and the fact that I can't get out without soaking myself to the bone makes it even worse. This isn't supposed to be happening, I was supposed to make everything right. That was the deal… I would lose the most important thing in my life in order to make everything right again. This isn't right at all.

"Why? Do you know something else?" He asks and I don't reply nor look at him. "I mean, it's important if you do…"

Just when Warren's about to say something else, a knock on the window makes us both jump in our seats. There's a man in a yellow raincoat holding an umbrella in one hand and waving at us with the other. I instantly roll the window down and find that, luckily, the rain is not as heavy as it was before.

"Hello there! We're very sorry for the inconvenience but we'll be unable to continue with the show tonight." He speaks loud and clear. "We've been notified there is a total blackout in the area and because of the storm, for safety reasons we must ask all cars to leave the lot."

My mind's still smoking with the idea of said psychopath roaming the streets freely, so I find it hard to pay attention to what he says or what Warren replies.

"We will be screening the same marathon soon again so hold onto your tickets." He adds. He probably thinks my current mood is caused by the change of plans, because I can tell he's trying too hard to be nice. "Or I can tell you how it ends."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think we'll be coming back next time." Warren chuckles and starts the car.

"Good for you. Again, we're very sorry!" The guy waves at us and goes to the next car.

The night is pitch black and getting out of the lot is even harder than getting in. In the dark, the place is a complete maze and it takes us a few turns and fails to find the way out. This time Warren doesn't waste a second to avoid silence, and spends every minute complaining about ' _all those angry geeks who can't drive_ '.

"We should look at the bright side, at least you got to see the first part now. I mean, those other guys had an awful job. Imagine having to tell all the hardcore nerds to leave. And I don't get why we couldn't stay anyway. _'Safety reasons'_? Do they think driving like this is safe?" He points to the dark street, only lit up by his and others' car lights. "Driving through space would be easier. Though actually…"

I zone out of whatever he's rambling about and stare out of the window, though there isn't much to look at. I know I shouldn't feel so mad at him. It's not his fault, and probably many others feel the same way. They don't know what I do. I might have felt the same way if I didn't… How _had_ I felt? Just as if he had read my mind, Warren glances at me and puts on a serious face.

"Hey… you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" I can't think of anything to say, so I go with the truth. "It's too much, you know? I feel like... I feel like I'm fighting ghosts that nobody else can see and… A bit like I'm losing my mind..."

There's a minute of silence as he keeps driving.

"I know, believe me. And I hate to say this, but it probably won't go away for a good while. All you gotta do is not to let it… drawn you. Just follow the natural course of time and eventually it'll get better."

"That's what she said."

"Now how did that come out dirty?"

"No, I meant Chloe," I reply without thinking and get a questioning look from him. "I've been… dreaming of her. At least, I think it's dreams. It must be all in my head, right?"

I expect Warren to stare at me like I'm crazy, but he shrugs.

"Does that really matter?"

"I don't know, does it?"

"Well, it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

I pause for a moment and think of the words he's just said.

"Did you just quote Dumbledore?"

"Hey, that only makes it more truthful."

I start laughing, at first a weak, silly laugh, then a maniacal, full-on serial killer one. It gives me a strange and addictive feeling of relief, and I can't seem to stop. Warren laughs with me - or probably _at_ me - but I think he's a bit scared. When I finally start breathing normally again, I see we're already back in Blackwell. The sight of it cuts any trace of laughter short, and I stare out the window trying to come up with any excuse not to go back to my dorm. I then remember the Coke he had taken from me, and recover it to nurse my throat at the aftermath of my laughing spree.

"I'm sorry if I offended you earlier." Warren says out of the blue. "I thought you felt the same way. Kate told me you were so surprised when Jefferson was arrested, you didn't want to believe it."

"Was I?" I ask mechanically. Fucking Substitute Max. "It's just this week… I haven't been quite myself. I… there's some things I can't… recall properly."

Once again I expect him to stare at me like the irrational mess I am, and once again he acts absolutely normal.

"I understand... And then I'm guessing… you don't know about the Nathan thing either, do you?"

"What _Nathan thing_?"

Warren tries to make himself comfortable in his seat, seeing what he's about to say will most likely make him feel anything but.

"That Sean Prescott has… _suggested_ a few times that Nathan's innocent and that Chloe… shot herself."

The feeling I get in my stomach is so awful I can already taste the bile in my mouth.

The whole idea…

The fact that they would…

Even when I…

How could anyone…

I breathe in deeply and I swallow hard before speaking.

"Warren… I need you to tell me everything. Start from the beginning."

* * *

 **A/N: A FAIR WARNING: I know this is probably not what you expected, but I've got so many things planned for this story. It's gonna be a long one, ergo a slow one. So if you want to stick with me, sit back and relax for the time being.**

 **Sorry for how long this has taken me! It's been so long I've actually been quite anxious about uploading it. Turns out, writing and exams and reading and having a life are not compatible but... who needs a life anyway?**

 **Marcus, your review was better than cheesecake (and I REALLY love cheesecake). Thank you for each of your words, they were just what I needed to read to get this chapter done with! Specially the comment on the pacing. That's one of the things I tend to stress the most about and start doubting myself, so thank you from the bottom of my a-little-bit-less-stressed heart. And for the pressure thing. IT REALLY WORKS. I stayed up that Sunday writing most of the dialogue. I was an absolute zombie on Monday but it was WORTH IT.**

 **Firebird 41 I live for lengthy, detailed reviews, and yours was so nice to read! Already PM'd you :)**

 **As always, I can't thank you all enough for your lovely reviews and messages! Every time I read one, I feel like I could write forever and ever - or you know, at least for a little while.**

 **Oh, and speaking of 'for a little while', if any of you happens to deliver the punchline for Warren's comment, let's be best friends and I'll share my oreo cheesecake with you.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Yay I'm back! And with the longest chapter so far. Ironically, not so much Warren on this one. But don't worry, next chapter will make up for that :)**

* * *

The engine's been off for a while, but neither of us is moving yet. In fact, the stillness inside of the car really stands out against the thundering weather outside. There's also a great deal of stillness inside me, or rather numbness. No more teeth clenching, or lip biting, or throat closing up. There's only quietness.

"So when you say you don't remember any of this…" Warren starts after a while.

"I mean: nothing. Total amnesia," I say, not looking away from the raindrops running down the windshield.

"And is it just that day?"

"No… The whole week."

"Wow. That's… interesting." He doesn't sound like a concerned friend, maybe more like a scientist watching a snake shed its skin.

"And useless now."

"That's not your fault."

I want to prove him wrong, I really want to. And perhaps I should tell him everything. The traveling through time, premonitory dreams, huge freaking tornado, people dropping dead like flies. He's already believed me once, without questioning. Although… it was a matter of life and death then, literally. And he had witnessed the latter part. But the mere idea of talking about it sounds so liberating. But it also sounds crazy just to think about it. But it…

"Maybe we should call it a night," I say suddenly, to stop my thoughts from going places. "It's not raining as heavily as before."

"Okay," Warren says and glances out the window. "Though be careful with your step, it's gonna be a hell of a slippery road."

"I've been through worse. Plus, I'm not so keen on soaking myself, so I'll run anyway."

"Then you should walk, not run. If you run, then you'll get wetter."

"Oh, that's bullshit." I roll my eyes. "You have to hurry not to get wet, walking doesn't make any sense."

"Then let's try it out. You run, and I'll walk, and we'll see who's right."

"Deal."

I open my bag and grab my sweater, removing the bits and pieces of my broken camera from it. It's not the best thing ever to protect me from the rain, but it'll do for now.

"By the way... I guess you don't remember about the curfew thing, then?" Warren says when my hand is on the door.

"No... "

"Let's just say they're not so keen on people roaming around late at night, so... We should be careful"

"Alright. " I nod and open the door, ready to bolt.

"Hey, wait up, you cheat!" I hear him shout after me.

"How am I a cheat? This isn't a race!" I laugh and pick up my pace heading to the dorms.

The cold rain hits my face and forces me to narrow my eyes. I'm annoyed at the drops that get caught up in my eyelashes and blur my vision, as if deciding which poodle will splatter less water when I rush through it isn't already hard enough. But the worst thing is the smell. I'd never thought I could ever hate the smell of rain this much.

I'm almost there when I trip against something hard and lose balance for a moment.

"Shit!" I shout before somehow stopping myself from falling buttfirst to the wet ground.

"Who's there?" I hear someone say before a flash of white blinds me.

I raise my hand to cover my eyes from the light and regain my sight. A grown man in uniform steps from behind the fence. I I think I recognize his mustache.

"David?" I ask and climb a few steps into the small porch to take cover from the rain.

"Oh, Max, it's you." David Madsen lowers his flashlight and I get a better look at his face. An unshaven beard is now keeping his mustache some company. "You know you shouldn't be out this late."

"Yeah, I know, I just went for a walk."

"In this weather?" He raises an eyebrow and from the corner of my eye I spot Warren making his way here.

"I'm... Surprised to see you here," I say louder than necessary and, the second David looks down, I flash Warren a warning look.

"Just making a night round, waiting for the rain to stop." His tone is vague and overall tired.

"I meant here in Blackwell."

"Yes, well, even if I can't keep you all safe... Doesn't mean I'll stop trying. Besides, I'm more useful here than..." David makes a pause and I stand closer to the door, hoping he will turn to face me.

"Well, I... I do feel safer with you around," I say and I mean it.

David looks at me and Warren takes the chance to sneak past him.

"Thank you, Max. And for everything you've done this week. I know Joyce is forever grateful for your company. "

"Sure." I nod with a tight smile.

I want to say something else to him, anything, but nothing seems right.

 _Thank you for saving my life._

 _I'm sorry it took me so many rewinds to save yours._

 _I'm sorry I couldn't save her._

Not that it would make any sense for him. I have to settle for a meaningful stare and saying goodnight. David shows me the ghost of a smile and I resume my race to the dorms. Warren is inside the hall, by the stairs, trying to dry his hair off by shaking his head like a dog.

"Hey, stop that," I put my arms up trying to keep the jumping drops from getting to me.

"Oh, sorry" He raises his eyes - which must be somewhere behind those sticky wet bangs of his. "Thanks, you saved my ass out there."

"I know. And I beat you, you're absolutely soaked."

"That's not fair! I had to wait out in the rain forever to go past Commando guy!"

"Not my concern" I cross my arms over my chest and attempt to put on the smug smirk I enjoy giving him, but apparently my face muscles are not willing to cooperate. "Hey, I'm exhausted, we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. And hey... Try not to... You know... Don't get all worked up over it. I mean... "

"I know. I'll do my best to get some sleep."

"Yeah. Though you should take a shower first. You reek like a wet dog."

"And you," I begin to say as I try to punch his arm, but he jumps back just in time. "... are a lame loser."

Now Warren's the one to pull a smug smile and does a sort of ceremonial bow before heading to the boy's dorms. I walk up the stairs and to my room, removing my drenched sweater on the way. Closing my bedroom door behind me feels like removing that little plug that was keeping my mind from flooding with mingled thoughts, _literally flooding_ since they all escape through my mouth in the form of incomprehensible mumbling. I brush my wet hair back with my fingers, trying to push it all away.

I need to do something. I just have to figure out what. Otherwise, my head's going to crack. I don't want to go to sleep and talk to Chloe about how I failed to act as a witness of her death because I was found crying in the bathroom with no memory of ever hearing a gunshot or seeing a thing. Or about how the police forces of Arcadia Bay are completely useless, nothing like the episodes of Law and Order we used to binge watch. They haven't even cleared up the details surrounding Rachel's death, for God's sake. I sigh and snort and curse until I come up with a better idea.

I go to my desk, turn on the little pink lamp Mom gave me for my fifteenth birthday, grab my journal and begin to write. I don't care much for my choice of words or stop to doodle to make my pages look nicer. I just keep on writing, following the speed with which my thoughts come to mind, no filter in between, so I'm somehow conscious most of this won't make any sense. How could it, anyway?

Jefferson's hideous lecture, saving Chloe, actually meeting Chloe again, failing to save Kate, Frank's beans, seeing Chloe in a wheelchair, finding Rachel's body. I don't skip a detail, and the more I write, the more it sounds like a work of fiction, like it was all just in my head. And that's kind of true now. I'm the only one in possession of all these memories.

That thought stops me when I'm about to describe how Jefferson shot Chloe in the junkyard. Not because of the emotional baggage that comes with it, but because of Warren. He did mention his dream with the storm and the diner. Makes me wonder if David is dreaming of his deaths too. Or Kate. Makes me wonder if I really wanna know.

I get to see a few drops of blood fall on the paper before my journal becomes a much needed pillow.

* * *

As I walk into the classroom, she's already there, speaking. For a moment I almost believe she's just a super rude student who's taken over Jefferson's old desk, but then I recognize her face from the website Kate showed me the other day. My brain doesn't quite understand how a thirty-something woman can look that young. She appears to be one of those rare specimens that can really fight time and beat it.

Miss Andrea Rhodes is leaning on the front of her desk and falls silent the second she takes in my presence. Her head turns to me and a soft smile spreads across her lips. I swear, those grey eyes can't be older than twenty-five. It's like she's been airbrushed.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," I say as I close the door behind me.

"You must be Maxine then," she says, and her use of my full name makes me cringe. "Welcome, we were just starting."

I now have to face the one thing I've been dreading, sitting in that damned chair at the back. I try and focus on the fact that I'll be okay as long as I don't have to hear Jefferson's lecture again. I should also come to terms with the fact that these awful plastic chairs are fucking uncomfortable. Seriously, you'd think such a prestigious school would at least invest in their seatings.

Normally, I would have been more bothered by everyone's looks on me, keeping my head down and trying to hurry out of embarrassment - the sole reason I was never late to class was so I could avoid going through that - but it doesn't seem that big of a deal now. Before sitting down, I take a peek out of the window, just to make sure there aren't any dead birds lying around the ground.

"As I was telling you, I've just arrived in Arcadia Bay two days ago, so I'm curious to see what you guys have been creating. I've heard great things about all of you from your principal and had the chance to take a look at your entries for the Everyday Heroes Competition." Her eyes flash at me for a second before she continues. "I've seen some very interesting things in them which I'd like to share today."

It's been six days since a tornado didn't hit Arcadia Bay, and this is our first lesson of Language of Photography with Andrea Rhodes. It's also practically the only thing I've been looking forward to all week. I've had time to Google her after Kate reminded me of her name, and I must say I was quite impressed. I shouldn't be surprised, but her style was different from what I would have expected from a photographer based in LA - I may have been a bit judgy there. From what I've learned, Miss Rhodes specializes in wild nature shots which she combines with human subjects, and the result is always stunning. But what really got me was that many of her award-winning photographs are self-portraits. Which makes sense, considering her dark hair and ivory skin create a perfect dramatic contrast. Of course, her editing is on point too, and the dynamic atmosphere she creates with the lighting in her shots... it's the exact opposite of freezing time. Plus, she's got my respect for being patient enough to get those animals to pose right.

Miss Rhodes is talking about her formation and initial inspirations and I'm embarrassed to already feel my eyelids growing heavy and my mind drifting away. It's not that she's particularly dull, but not even ten hours of sleep were enough for me to regain energy. Rather than 'following the natural course of time', this week's been more about time chasing down my ass. I think I've spent most of it either sleeping or passing out.

I'm not gonna lie, I am a bit freaked out. My brain has been working harder than usual while my body seems to be falling apart. But I can't really go to a doctor and explain I have post time-traveling exhaustion and stress. I can't talk to anyone about it, and I need to come to terms with the fact that the things I experienced during the longest week of my life didn't really happen, at least not for the rest of the world. I also know Chloe would give me crap for even thinking like that, which is why I've been avoiding her. Or maybe she's been avoiding me. Whatever the case, I haven't talked to her since finding out the Nathan thing. Keeping my mind off things might have been easier if it weren't for Warren and his dream about the diner.

Just as if he'd read my mind from the classroom across the hall, there's a light on my phone indicating I've received a new text. He's been an even heavier texter than ever this week, given I've been avoiding face-to-face communication. I may have also been replying with short, to-the-point texts, but him being Warren, he always finds a way to make further conversation. I unlock the screen and read it quickly.

" **Have you realized how bad Miss Grant's hair resembles a bunch of susuwatari? Srsly, there could be thousands of them in there. Or does this mean I've had too much coffee?"**

I curl my lips tightly to keep myself from chuckling at the randomness of it.

" **You could try and smash it and see if they turn into soot. Though Miss Grant might not appreciate it."**

" **It's not like I haven't thought of it. But I'm also starting to think Paul Kent's hair is made of Kakunas. It's just so bright and yellow."**

 **"Definitely too much coffee. Though maybe I've had too much too, cause I keep staring at Kate's. Hers is always so big and fluffy, I wonder how she does it."**

" **That's because it's full of secrets."**

" **Did you just quote Mean Girls?"**

" **Who?"**

My brain snaps back into the classroom when I hear Taylor say the word "sociopath". I've no idea what she's said, but I know she's talking about Jefferson.

"... Or rather a psychopath. At least that's what I heard," she's saying as she crosses her arms over her chest. "But, what is a psychopath then?"

"I'll tell you what it's not: relevant to this class," Victoria snaps back at her, shaking her hand as if it were dismissing the previous comment.

"Well, it _is_ actually." Miss Rhodes intervenes. "Art frequently feeds on different aspects of science. If you've had the chance to see some paintings from the Middle Ages, you must have noticed you can hardly recognize any emotion in the expression of most faces. Which then, of course, changed with Renaissance artists, who took an interest in the psychological state of their subjects." Victoria now keeps her mouth shut and Miss Rhodes turns to her. "In fact... Chase, right? You were the winner of the contest. Well, Miss Chase, your picture poses as a great example of what I intended to discuss." She walks behind the desk and takes out the big framed print of Victoria's shot, the one with the doctor hiding his face in his hands. "Now, who can tell me why this photo won the contest?"

"Because it's pretty fucking amazing." Taylor says in what looks like an attempt to win her queen V's affection back.

"It _is_ pretty amazing. But so was Daniel DaCosta's or Kate Marsh's. What makes _this_ shot so special?" What strikes me the most is that she's already learnt everybody's names. She walks around the classroom waiting for an answer and her eyes land on me. _Please don't_. "Caulfield. Would you please tell me what you see here?"

Clearly my silent prayer didn't work. I stare at the glossy image and get myself together.

"It's... A very clean shot. The natural light from the window makes for a nice backlight and the subject is framed in a way that..."

"Yes, yes, we can all agree it is overall technically well-executed." She cuts me off and places the image on the desk in front of me. "But I'm asking you, what do you see?"

I really don't feel like kissing Victoria's ass right now, especially when I can feel her stare on me, but Miss Rhodes is not backing off. I examine the picture once more, looking for the exact words that express how it makes me feel.

"Sadness. Frustration. Failure. Which would normally be absurd to see in someone who devotes his life to help other people. He's sitting by a corner, and looking away. He doesn't want to be seen. And the focus on his hands really brings out the heaviness he's feeling, you can feel… the weight of it all."

Fortunately, Miss Rhodes appears to enjoy my appreciation and moves back to another desk.

"Now that's something interesting. What about you, Mr. DaCosta?"

I can tell Victoria's eyes are fixated on me, but I avoid looking at her at all costs. Only when Daniel finishes speaking and Miss Rhodes pronounces her name again does she look away.

"That was really nice too, Daniel. Now, Victoria, what can you tell us about this man?"

"His name is Patrick Pen. He's a doctor at the Providence Portland Medical Center, a surgeon." From the way her voice has changed I can tell she's practiced this speech multiple times. "He's the one who performed a heart surgery on me when I was ten. I was visiting by chance that day and the girl he had to operate... She couldn't even make it to the operating room. She was only six. He saves people every day and loses some, but still goes on. He's a real everyday hero."

Miss Rhodes nods and puts the picture on the board.

" _This_ is what I want to see. _This_ is the Language of Photography. I'm sure before Miss Chase told her story, all of you could understand the feelings conveyed here. And that is because, thank God, we have this wonderful capacity to feel and express emotions, to empathise with others. _This_ -" She points back to the man in the picture. "true feelings, transparency, is what you need to search for in your viewfinder. Something you'll never see in a psychopath."

Kudos for her for addressing the topic without even naming the one psychopath we all have in mind. Miss Rhodes pulls Kate's photo out now and we continue to analyze one entry after the other, from technical aspects to mere personal impressions. Once we are done with that – with everyone's pictures for the contest but mine and Taylor's - our new teacher gives us some other pictures to discuss, some are from magazines, some others look like they were taken out of a museum. I choose to remain silent most of the time, but Miss Rhodes she lets us do most of the talking. Even Allysa is sharing her opinion, and I hardly ever hear her say a word in class. The only thing I'm not particularly a fan of is when we're told we'll be doing some group work soon, but as Kate shoots me a smile I know I'll be in good company.

The bell rings before Miss Rhodes gets to explain what that work will be about and I'm ready to leave the classroom when I hear my name.

"Maxine. Can you stay just for a few minutes?"

"Sure," I say and approach her desk, all the while feeling Victoria's nosy pupils following me. I'm really not fond of the familiar feeling in this. "I'm sorry I was late today, I…"

"Oh, don't worry about that." I'm happy she interrupts me because I had no real excuse. "I'm very curious about you. Most of your classmates participated in the contest but not you."

"Oh… yeah I just didn't feel…"

"That's okay, I'm not judging." Andrea raises her hands with a kind smile. "It's just that I have all this amazing work they could share today and nothing from you. It seems unfair, I'd like to get to know you too. Taylor didn't take part in the contest either but she's shown me her portfolio. Do you have one?"

"Well… no." _I do have a bunch of random pictures of squirrels and birds in some alternate timeline…_

"Hmm." She takes her glasses off and cleans them with the edge of her blouse. "Well then, you think you can bring something to share with us next class?"

"Yeah."

"Great then! Do you shoot digital or analog?"

"Analog. I have an old instant camera."

"That's quite rare to see these days. I'll be very interested to see what you create. I'd like you to shoot something along the lines of what we talked about in class today. A side of someone everyone sees, and one that's hidden, that shows their true self. You think you can do that?"

"Yeah, I think so." Even though my answer is quite vague, I compensate by uttering it with confidence. At least that's what I tell myself.

Miss Rhodes nods and I say goodbye and head to the door, seeing Kate is just leaving too. She would make a great subject, I'd dare say no one is as misunderstood as her. I can already picture her playing her violin, surrounded by her drawings and…

"Oh, and Maxine," Miss Rhodes calls after me.

"Max," I correct her with the most similar thing I can pull to a smile. I can only allow my mom to call me that.

"Max." She nods. "Let your subject be someone from outside this classroom. Judging by your intense use of your phone in class, I'm guessing you must have a busy social life so it won't be any trouble for you."

Oh fuck. I can only nod blankly at her and walk by Kate's side.

We've just made it out of the classroom when I see Victoria and her posse standing right in the middle of the hallway. They look like something taken out of a 90s film. Victoria is speaking in her unnecessarily loud voice, just to make sure I hear her.

"She's just a hippie who takes a bunch of selfies. We all know who her favorite pet will be." She turns around, and looks at me as if she's just noticed I'm there. "So Max, I hear you've got some extra homework. What will you delight us with this time? Will it be a classic, downward angle, serious-emo-girl selfie? Or will you go wild with a front angle and an actual smile?" Victoria poses as if taking said pictures with her phone and Taylor laughs like she's a freaking comedian. " _Seriously_ , haven't you found anything more interesting to take silly Polaroids of than yourself?"

The whole situation is so old for me I'm not even offended. Then Kate's voice surprises me.

" _Seriously_ , Victoria, haven't you found anything more interesting to do with your time than to plan snotty rhetorics to make yourself sound important?" I believe Victoria is even more shocked than I am that Kate would talk back at her, since she just stares with her mouth hanging for a moment. "Right, nothing to say? We'll give you some time to think of something smart."

She could've just dropped the mic right there. All three girls look at her in disbelief as Kate just walks past them, me following right behind her.

"Wow Kate, that was so badass!" I look at my friend in awe.

"I think my knees are shaking," she confesses to me under her breath. "Let's just not stop walking."

I could hug her right now.

"I don't even know where that came from," she continues while we walk down the hall. "Was I too mean?"

"You were perfect." I grin at her. "Victoria must still be trying to catch her breath. You're my hero."

"And you're my main inspiration."

Her 'Kate' smile brightens her face and the whole school. It is quite something to look at and I wonder what has been in her head these days. Which reminds me…

"By the way… Have you had any strange dreams lately?" I ask once we're out in the campus.

"Strange how?" Kate stops walking since we're supposed to part ways now.

"I don't know, about being somewhere in these buildings… Like on the rooftop, maybe?" I'm trying really hard to be subtle here.

"Uhm… No, I don't think I've ever been up there…" Her eyes trail to the side in deep thought. "I had one dream in which the cafeteria was full of frogs. Does that count?"

"No, I mean… Something death-related." Real smooth, genius, _Dean-Winchester-esque_.

Kate raises her eyes to me in surprise and I find it extremely hard to act as if it was an everyday question.

"Is this because of what we talked about the other day?" she asks and, again, I wish I knew what she's talking about, so I pretend I do.

"Maybe. There's just been a lot in my mind lately, I suppose."

"That's perfectly natural." Kate nods but her mouth is struggling between a smile and something far away from it. "I'm glad you could make it to class today. I haven't seen much of you this week."

"Oh yeah… I've been… catching up with some things." Saying I've been only sleeping and skipping as many lessons as possible would only make her frown further.

"Warren's asked about you too."

"Really? What did he say?"

Kate thinks for a moment before answering.

"I believe he was under the impression you've been avoiding him."

"No, I haven't. I've just… been busy."

"Well, he was worried. We both were," she adds, her lips still doing that odd not-really-smiling thing. "You were in really bad shape the other day."

"Yeah, but that was just the weekend." I wish I could say lying gets easier every time. "Had to get it out of my system. Now there's no more nose bleeding, or throwing up…"

"Oh, you've been actually sick too?"

"That's gone. I'm all better now." I smile to reassure her. "I should head off now. To do my homework, find my muse..."

"Well, good luck with it. There are plenty of interesting people here in Blackwell, I'm sure you'll do great."

I thank Kate and she leaves to catch the bus, while I head to the dorms with Ben Howard singing in my earplugs. In only four days I'll have to show my work to Miss Rhodes and, if I ever want anyone to take me seriously, it's gotta be good. It's a shame I can't use Kate, she would be so perfect. She's the epitome of what it means to be misjudged. I don't think anybody here truly knows how kind and caring she is, or how selfless. I would love to show her in my pictures as she is, for everyone to see. I guess Andrea Rhodes didn't realize she was asking her most socially awkward student to work with someone outside the classroom. Or perhaps she did that on purpose.

I'm staring at the map of the girls dorms, reviewing every name on the floor. So Kate, Stella, Alyssa, Taylor and Victoria are already in my class. Not like I would ever take the latter into account. That leaves me with only three people to choose from. Or rather two, because I do not believe Brooke would like having me following her around with my camera. Or even standing near her.

Right when _Gracious_ comes to an end, the perfect answer to my dilemma is presented to me in the form of Talking Heads. I approach the second door on the right and see her dancing on top of the bed, all carefree to _And She Was_. This is one image I'd never get tired of seeing.

It's not a perfect dance, but you would believe she's perfect seeing her like this. That's the enchanting thing about girls like her, even in their PJs, with bed hair and no make-up on, they'll still look better than you after spending hours trying to be like them. At least on the outside, she is flawless. But I've learnt too much about her life to know it's far from that.

I walk in and take my camera out, positioning myself right at the end of her bed and close to the wall so that her body is backlit. I take the shot just as she's turning around, her arms moving freely around her head. The picture comes out and I tuck it in my back pocket.

She opens her eyes and is surprised to find me there, but her smile is welcoming.

"Max Caulfield! Are you honoring me by making me one of your subjects?" she says while continuing to dance.

"I believe you're just what I was looking for." I nod and look around the room. Posters, fake spiders, paper pumpkins, burlesque costumes… The Halloween stuff is taking over. "How are you doing, Dana?"

"I'm marvelous as you can see! Getting in the mood for tonight's party!" Her dance is not a fully energetic one, but rather slow and engaged, as if she were feeling every note snake up her limbs.

"Seriously, what is it with this school and parties on Thursday nights?"

"Get used to it, the 31st falls on a Thursday too and that means Halloween, the best one yet!" She cheers and I begin to suspect her mood is a bit _too_ high. That would explain the strong smell of lavender in the room, trying to cover up something else. "I hope you're planning on coming!" The song reaches its final ' _was_ ' and Dana slowly sits down at the edge of the bed. "And you should bring your bitch Warren. Both of you in dorky _couply_ costumes like… Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker."

"You do know Luke and Leia are brother and sister, right?"

"Is that like an incest thing?" She tilts her head to the right.

"No!" I let out a small laugh, but hers goes on for way too long. I raise my eyebrows at her. "You're totally baked."

"Is it that obvious?" She almost whispers and looks around as if someone else could see her. "Justin and I shared a few joints yesterday and he left some with me for my own enjoyment."

"Justin?" I ask, now I'm the one tilting her head. "And what about Trevor?"

"What about him? I mean… he's nice and all but… Justin and I really hit it off. We had this real talk on Monday, when they took Mr. Jefferson away. He told me about when he was a kid and his dad went to jail… You'd never know what he's been through by just looking at him."

I try not to put much thought into it. Butterfly effect again, I suppose.

"You know… that's what my photography assignment is about actually. I'm supposed to show two sides of the same person. You don't mind me using you?"

"Of course not! Like I said, I'm honored. But are you going for a high and a sober side of me?"

"I'll have to come up with something better."

"So you want one too?"

"One what?"

"A joint" She rolls her eyes, still smiling. "This new stuff is so strong. Justin's got a new dealer since the other guy who used to provide him is no longer in business."

"You mean Frank?"

"Wow Max, I didn't take you for a pothead." I believe she's impressed. "But yeah, I think that was the old guy's name. Anyway, want one? I promise it'll be a nice trip. At first it made me get all funny and drowsy but now I really feel like dancing!"

Given I can no longer freeze time to ponder on the possible consequences of my actions, I'll have to go with my first instinct.

"Sure, why not?"

Dana makes sure the door is locked before lighting it up. I've only smoked once with Kristen back in Seattle, and my common sense is telling me that first instinct was wrong. Weed makes me act even clumsier than I already am, both physically and verbally, not to mention the continuous need for peeing. But I'm so done with making choices following my common sense and careful thinking. With everything my mind and body have been through, I think I deserve to let my hair down a bit.

"I could never share this with Juliet" Dana sits on the floor, her back to the bed. "Actually, she would kill me if she knew I was hanging out with Justin."

"She'd get over it." I sit down next to her, my feet to the side, and take my first puff. "Though she'd probably be jealous more than anything."

"You're right. Sometimes it feels like I'm tiptoeing around her, making sure she won't get her panties in a twist." Dana rolls her eyes "Not like you Max, you're really easy to talk to."

"That's funny, considering hardly anyone does." I chuckle. "I'm usually glad they don't though. But you're always nice to everyone, unlike most people here."

"You think so?" She smiles and throws her head back, staring at the ceiling. "I think if someone was actually inside my head, they would realize what an actual bitch I am."

"That's all of us. I think the fact you keep that _in_ your head makes you a nice person."

"Well, but you… _try_." She finally says and I can't help but laugh at her lack of more comforting words.

"I guess. But I'm sort of the slave of _trying_ … and the master of _failing_."

"That was _sooo_ deep."

"Right?"

That's all that's needed to really get us going. Even when I start to hit my not-so-bright-remarks phase, I couldn't care less. And that's the beauty of it, I don't have to think or care about what I say or how I act. Even the stupidest things are spoken freely without that little voice in my head actually telling me I'm being stupid.

"Sometimes when I go out in the morning I feel like I haven't woken up properly and I need to check my reflection in random windows just to make sure I'm not wearing my PJs." I find myself saying at some point.

"Oh my god! I do that all the time. And once I had actually gone out wearing these awful leggings I wear in bed. Everyone in campus could see my butt through it every time I moved my legs."

The laughter that comes out of our mouths does not even sound human at all. It's more like sporadic gags and coughs, since most of the laughing is done in silence, with our mouths wide open and our heads falling back and forth in slow motion.

"I often think about people I know dying, and what I'd say in their funerals." Dana says once she's finally able to breathe again. "I'm not good with words when I'm really down. So I plan it all ahead. And if I've got nothing to say, then I worry. There's always something, at least some nice little thing a person can and should be remembered for. Like Victoria, she's a bitch and all, but Taylor showed me her entry for the contest and it was so fucking good." She makes a pause and I reflect on her words. "This is when you go "OMG, I do that too!"

"Well, no, not really." I giggle. "What would you say in my funeral?"

"Hm. Something along the lines of…" She straightens her chest and raises her hand as if she were holding a glass, making it look more like she's giving a toast at a wedding. " _'Max was one of the kindest souls. She could capture the best of you in an image for eternity. And also get super baked with me and talk about death. And now there she is_.'"

"There she is." I knock my imaginary glass against hers and we both burst into stupid laughter again. "Thinking about it, I don't think anyone has anything really interesting to say about me on this timeline." I'm not sure whether I'm speaking to her, or to myself, but words keep flowing. "I just wish I could be more normal, you know? Like those girls at Wendy's. I wanna be like them. And I wanna stop saying I wanna do stuff and start doing them. Let me paraphrase that. I'm _gonna_ start doing stuff I always say I _wanna_ do. "

"Like getting high with me?"

"Like getting high with you."

"You know, we should do this like every week." Dana smiles as she turns the music up. "And you _have_ to come to the party tonight."

"I'm not a party person really…"

"Didn't you say you wanted to be like those girls at Wendy's?" She puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at me.

"Well... Yeah."

"And don't you think those girls at Wendy's would go to the party and have a great time?"

"Well... Yeah."

"Then you have to come!"

"Well... I think you're right."

"Of course I'm right!"

"But... What would I wear, anyway?"

"Oh, I have just the thing for you." Dana suddenly grins like she has the best idea ever. I can already see the chick flick makeover montage playing in her head.

"Dana, I'm not that high, I know I could never pull your style."

Strong determination in mind, Dana ignores me and starts searching in her drawers, throwing random pieces of clothing around the floor, till she comes across a blue blouse.

"This is it. You'll look perfect in it."

"You're crazy." I laugh but still catch it when she throws it at me.

I stare at the blouse for a moment. I know there is no way I can pull off that cleavage, but Dana looks so excited I can't say no without at least trying. I take off my t-shirt and put the blouse on, to find it's not as bad as I thought. Given it's quite tight-fitting, my small waist makes up for my almost nonexistent chest.

"You look amazing!" Dana's eyes are almost popping out of her head. "Oh please let me take a picture!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm but still pose for her – or more like let her pose me, since she keeps moving my arms and hands and hair and head to her liking like I'm her Barbie doll or a chunk of clay.

"Awesome!" She jumps in her place. "I'm so sending this to your Warren."

"What?! Hell no!"

I mean to jump on her and at least try to take the phone from her, but for a second I almost hear Chloe's voice.

 _"I'm gonna text Warren to say you blew me off."_

The déjà vu is strong with this one. Dana is nothing like her, but this is definitely the kind of moment I would be sharing with Chloe. Actually, if I squint my eyes enough, I can even picture blue hair and tats.

"Done!" she singsongs. "I also texted him the address so he'll definitely join the party too… if he can manage to read it beneath the drool all over your pic."

"Gross!"

"At least I only said ' _drool_ '…"

"You need to drop it right there!" I choke out when I'm able to stop and breathe.

Dana lets herself fall on her butt and I take the chance and steal the phone from her hands to take a look at the embarrassing shot she's just sent, but I'm astounded when I see it. My hair is the right kind of mess and the blue top doesn't look so awful on me. Maybe it's the weed, but...

"I actually look hot," I conclude and she nods in agreement. Then I take a second look at it. "Though, ugh, my eyes look bloodshot! Why is your phone's camera so HD?"

"To make you look like a sexy vampire."

I giggle at her statement and read her text, which is full of misspelled words and wrong corrections from her phone. But it's definitely been sent.

"I can't believe you've just texted him." I sit by her side, my back against her bed.

"Oh, don't play innocent. Justin says he saw you doing the walk of shame."

" _What?_ "

"Sunday morning you were leaving Warren's room after doing the dirty deed."

I had completely forgotten about that. So maybe Justin wasn't as dazed and confused as I thought after all.

"No, that's so not what it was." I shake my head, my bloodshot eyes wide open. "I was a complete mess and Warren was comforting me."

"And I bet he was good at it." She smiles and I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, not again, Chloe."

" _'Chloe'_?" Dana's smile freezes in place.

My mouth just hangs there open for a moment when the phone buzzes in my hand.

"Oh no, he's texted back." I haven't even opened the text when Dana takes it from my hand.

" _If that was an invitation, I'm 200% in_." She reads out loud.

I'm relieved he hasn't commented on the least about my appearance. Though on second thought, I'm offended.

"Is that all it says?" I take a peek at the screen and Dana's smile spreads to her right side.

"His hand was probably too busy to type anything else."

I take the nearest object I can find – which luckily for her it's just a rubber spider - and shove it right on her face. At least that's what I think I do, but the object flies across the room without even brushing her skin. Dana sticks her tongue at me, then walks back to her drawers, grabs a good bunch of make-up products, and places them on the floor by my side.

"Now, let's turn you into a real hottie."

* * *

 **A/N: I remember when I started uploading I promised myself I would never make you guys wait as long as Dontnot. Ha, ha, ha… ha.**

 **Now, what did I do to deserve such lovely readers? Your reviews are so heartwarming! Seriously, 90% of this chapter was written in an inspiration frenzy after reading your comments on the previous one.**

 **Marcus, you're officially my favorite human being.**

 **And Captain Sensible, what an awesome coincidence! Have you watched the whole thing by now? What did you think of it?**

 **Thank you so much, to all of you for your wonderful comments that always make my day! And thank you for sticking up with me if you're still there from the beginning :)**

 **PS: So some things are already in motion and I intend to make chapters a bit longer... how does that sound?**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks so much to Silvereld for allowing me to use her wonderful Grahamfield piece as a cover for this story. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it! If you'd like to see more of her gorgeous art, you can check out her instagram under that name or her tumblr (silverfanart).

* * *

There's a strange feeling in my stomach, something between discomfort and pain. It makes me want to curl up and go back to sleep, but as I wrap my arms around myself they come across something soft and furry. My eyes shoot open and I look down to find a mass of orange fur molding my tummy with its paws. The creature is staring back at me, as if waiting for me to make my move, but continues with its task nevertheless.

I don't own a cat. Or the t-shirt this cat is clawing at. Or these boxers, for that matter. Actually, I've no idea where my clothes went, whose bed this is, whose room this is, what time it is, what day it is... Something tells me I should be freaking out. This is by far my weirdest wakening so far, even beating Wednesday night when I found myself sitting at my desk at 3 am. Again, I know I should be freaking out. But my nervous system has yet to catch up with all the information I'm getting.

I look down at the pink polish on my nails... Dana was painting them. Yes, it was Dana. We were smoking Justin's pot, we went to a party, and then... Nothing. A few flashes here and there of loud music, people bumping into me, and Justin's continuous laugh as a soundtrack for the whole outing. Brooke's face. She said something, what did she say? It made me really mad. And then... fade to black.

The cat has made it through the fabric and readies to attack me again, though I'm pretty sure the pain I was feeling comes from the inside.

"Hey, you." I attempt to say but the noise that comes from my throat is definitely not my voice, not even my morning voice. It's much deeper and sounds like something that would come out of an old cassette when your Walkman's batteries are low. So, I even remember what that sounds like, yet I can't recall for the life of me what happened last night. "What do they call you, little one?"

Yellow eyes beam back at me with curiosity, and they slowly grow wider as the cat walks on top of my body towards my face. But then it buries its little claws rather painfully on my right breast on its way.

"Shit!" I moan and roll on my side for the animal to fall on the mattress. "That hurt, you rude-ass cat!"

The cat just proceeds to rub itself against my arm, in hopes to come back to my good graces, but instead, I ignore it as I try to make out my surroundings. The room is quite dark, and the shutters on the window hide the time of day. I can tell by the light from the lamp above the door that the walls are painted a deep blue while the floor seems to be made of a grey or black carpet, the fluffy kind that must feel real nice to walk on barefoot. My eyes follow the lines where the carpet meets the wall and spies a peculiar skateboard propped up against a wooden desk. One of the wheels is missing and a wide gash that opens the wood of the board covers the end of the missing wheel. What's even more distracting is that this bed smells pleasantly familiar. I can't put my finger on it, but whatever it is, it makes me want to bury myself under the covers all warm and snug.

No matter how hard I try and force my mind to think of what happened last night, I can't go past ten minutes into the party, much less how I even ended up in this room. There must be carpeted floor outside too, because I don't hear him come before he opens the door, but the room is suddenly lit up.

He's wearing a pair of checked trousers and a white t-shirt, they look loose on him but not exactly new, so I'm guessing those are his pj's. The first thing that he looks at isn't me but the old skateboard across the room. He makes something like a half sigh half groan before he stuffs the skateboard into his wardrobe. It takes him two glances at me to realize I'm looking back at him.

"Oh, you're awake!" Warren says, his eyes gaining twice the size they had two seconds ago. I realize now he may be even sleepier than me.

"Yeah, I've just been woken up by Chatran here trying to gut me," my deep-from-the-underworld voice says.

I notice his eyes trail down and stop right below my neck and I realize I'm still holding my pained breast in my hand. I release it immediately and rest my body on my right elbow.

"She can be annoying at times." He blinks and opens the door a bit. "Penny, out."

"Penny?" I repeat, the name ringing in my ears as I watch the little orange thing jump out of the bed and trot out of the room. "As in, your questions-game-friend Penny?"

"Almost. She did name the cat after herself. I know, who does that, right?"

"Chloe," I say, almost immediately. "Chloe had a guinea pig named after herself, even though it was a male. It was a sickly little thing and she thought that would make it stronger, give them a connection of some sort, but it died at three months old."

"Bummer. It's the thought that counts at least." Warren closes the door and drags his feet across the carpet floor. It does look really soft. I can't wait to feel it myself. I wonder if it's like stepping on fresh sand, where the waves brush it just often enough for it to stay cool and smooth but without wetting your feet. I raise my eyes to find him scrutinizing me. "Are you alright there?"

"What? Why?"

"You keep staring at my feet."

"It's your carpet, it looks so... " The same little voice that told me I should be freaking out advices me against finishing that sentence. "Ok, I may feel a bit funny."

"You're still on it, aren't you?"

"On what?"

"On whatever it was you took."

"I... don't remember what I took. And... we're not in your room, are we? Why was there a cat?"

This time an honest laugh escapes Warren's mouth but then he stares at me curiously.

"Yes and no. We're not in the dorms." He sits on the edge of the bed, right where Penny was sitting minutes ago. "We're in my room... in my house."

"Shit. How did we get here?" I look around myself once more and then I look again at the t-shirt and boxers I'm wearing, this time a lot more warily. Now I may be freaking out a bit. My head is already replaying the first episode of Veronica Mars. "Wait. What happened to my clothes?"

"Well... You really don't remember?"

"Nothing at all."

"Oh. Well, that's..." He scratches his bottom lip, and a smile starts creeping into it. "That's hilarious."

"No, it's not." I sit up and cross my arms over my chest. His laugh annoys me but it's contagious all the same, so I'm sort of frowning and chuckling and snorting at the same time.

"Maybe I should fill you in when you're actually sober." He says when his laughter subsides.

"I'm perfectly sober." I insist, though I know it's a lie.

Warren raises his left eyebrow and leans forward, only stopping 5 inches away from my face.

"Your eyes look like they are some crossroads demon's," he says, tilting his head to the side to examine me. "I'll go get some eye drops."

"I said I'm fine," I complain, but nevertheless, he leaves the room paying no mind to what I say.

He hasn't been gone for a minute when little Penny peeks her head through the door and slowly makes her way back to the bed. Warren must have been spoiling her, this cat's way too comfortable making herself comfortable. Once she's reached my tummy, I give her a second chance and scratch her lower back, and she happily rubs her head against my navel. She's a bit startled when my stomach quivers as I giggle, but her whiskers are so ticklish I can't help myself.

Warren returns holding the little bottle and stares at our interaction.

"Getting along?" He sits on the same spot as before, and Penny immediately ditches me and goes after his hand.

"We were, before you came along," I say as I watch the furry traitor enjoy his attention.

"What can I say? She's got a soft spot for me." He hands me the bottle and uses his now free fingers to pet the cat.

As I sit up, everything around me shakes a bit more than it should. I set my back straight and remove the cap careful not to spill anything. I've never worn contacts in my life, so I've very rarely used eye drops. Come to think of it, I've probably never applied them myself. This is made evident by my incompetence to get the tear to fall in my eye instead of all over my face. I try to bring the tip closer to my eyeball but soon it's bumping into my eyelashes.

"What are you doing?" Warren stares, his look somewhere between amusement and impatience. "You're gonna gouge your eye out like that. Give it to me."

"Wait, I can do this." I only insist with two more failed attempts before giving in. I remember my hand shaking when Dana was trying to paint my nails yesterday, my overall slowness of thinking and my constant giggling, not so different from what I'm feeling right now. I'm even more convinced that Warren's right and I'm still 'on it', which makes me nervous in a way I'm not used to. He leans in once more, now he's even sticking his tongue out.

"Can you hold your bangs back?"

"Uhm... Okay." I hesitate before brushing my bangs up and holding them against my scalp with the palm of my right hand. The second I do it, his eyebrows shoot up. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just I'd never noticed you have such a massive forehead."

"Well, you have massive... Feet." I can't even see his feet, I feel stupid the moment I say it. Warren just laughs at me, and I feel his breath hits my face - it smells of coffee and dark chocolate.

"Look up," he says, since I keep staring at him, but when I do as I'm told, the bottle feels too close like it's gonna poke my eye, I flinch. "Hey, don't move."

The drop splats on my cheek again. Warren rolls his eyes and uses his left hand to anchor my face in place. As if this weren't embarrassing enough, my eyes keep blinking at their own will, and the drops keep bouncing on my eyelid and onto my cheek. Maybe it's whatever substance that is still in my body, but I start giggling in amusement, which makes it even harder for him as my head keeps shaking.

"Max Caulfield, hold still." He's trying to be serious, but he's also trying not to laugh.

The weirdest thing is that the way he's pronounced my name sends a current of blood racing to the skin he's touching. I'm really hoping he won't feel the heat. I look down and see he's not sticking his tongue out anymore, but his lips are slightly parted. I guess I haven't been this physically close to him since our kiss at the diner, and that's pretty much the look he had before it happened. And I've already told myself to stop thinking about things that happened in nonexistent timelines. Another drop falls on my eyelid and dribbles down into my hairline.

"Seriously, dude, look up!" Now he's laughing and I'm laughing and blushing so hard it's almost impossible to keep still.

His grip on my face grows suddenly tighter for a second and I freeze as he finally manages to drop the tear into my right eye.

"Good!" He sighs like a father who's finally taught his toddler to use the potty. "Now close your eye and roll it."

I do as I'm told and take in the refreshing feeling on my eyeball for a few seconds before opening my eyes. When I focus my eyesight again, I notice there's a darker shade of pink on Warren's cheeks.

"O-okay. Now the left one." He mumbles as his now shakier hand positions itself above my eye.

This time it only takes one failed attempt before I feel the cool drop fall in my eye and I close both of them. I move my eyeball and once again I enjoy the pleasant sensation keeping my eyes closed a little longer. It takes me a few seconds to realize Warren's still holding my face and I can still smell coffee and dark chocolate, meaning he hasn't moved. I open my eyes and see he's got that same look of concentration, as if he hasn't realized his work is already done.

"That's... much better" He nods slowly.

"Is it?" I ask, only because I dread silence being this close to him.

And then I feel sharp little claws burying in my stomach.

"Ow, fuck!" I groan. Warren chuckles and pulls away. "It's not funny, she's out to get me."

"That's actually her being friendly."

"Well, tell her that's not what I'm like with my friends."

"She's just misunderstood." Warren shakes his head and scratches Penny's neck. His eyes then turn back to me. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? I couldn't help but notice you're really hot. I mean warm. But actually hot. You know what I mean."

"Why don't you stop being Doctor Graham for a minute and go back to being just Warren Graham and fill me in with all the details about last night?"

"I'm serious, you could be feverish."

"I feel fine. Now tell me."

Warren scratches his scalp for a few seconds, then sighs.

"Fine. So... What's the last thing you remember?"

I whip my brain cells to force them to recall the events from last night.

"Justin and Trevor picked us up. Dana was super excited about this party. Then we got there and Brooke was there, exchanged some words I think. Then Dana forced me to dance... And that's pretty much it. "

"Wait. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?"

"Positive. I don't even remember seeing you there."

Warren sighs again, and breathes in deeply before speaking.

"Okay. You want the long version or the short one?"

"Long one. Don't skip any details."

"Okay then. So I was going for a quiet evening, you know? Trying to decide between Poker Night and Papers, please, but last time I'd played it, it'd turned out so fucking stressful because after Jorji shows up for the third time..."

"Maybe you can skip those details."

"Right, right. So I went for Poker Night, some good old Texas Hold'em. It's just so much better than with actual people. Sam is a pain in the ass, but I just love GLADos's voice, I mean, who wouldn't? It's the whole reason why..."

"Warren. The party."

"I'm getting there. Everything's relevant, you'll see." He says and I ready myself to hear what will most likely be the longest epic ever. "As I was saying, Texas Hold'em. I was on a winning streak, actually. Got rid of everyone at the table but that annoying little robot. Well, to be honest, he cleaned most of the house. He had like 80k and I was dwelling on my poor ass 20k. Then he went all in and I only had a king and a five of spades, but since I'm a sucker for cards of the same suit, I was about to go for it... but then I got this text from Dana - weird, I didn't even think she knew my name. I opened it and there was this picture... "

"Right. That I don't need to be reminded of." I sink a bit under the sheets, wishing I could rewind and prevent Dana from even taking it.

"I thought you looked... Good. You know, despite your shirt being inside out."

"What?! Ugh, Dana, why didn't she say something?"

"Because she was too high to notice? Anyway, I'm not that into parties but I thought, hey, why not? After that shit-ass Claptrap made off with all my chips, I had nothing to lose. So I showered and headed to the address Dana had texted me. Which was wrong, by the way. I didn't ring the doorbell or anything, but that place was dead as fuck. I drove around some more until I heard the lame music banging through the walls of a small house at the end of the street. There was no place to park, and most cars were just over the front yard, but I wouldn't leave my baby there, imagine if some... "

"Snoooore."

"Alright, alright. I eventually found a place like five streets away and I walked back. Like I said, lame music, loud drunks, I immediately regretted going. Most faces were just strangers but then I saw Luke and glued myself to him. I've never seen that guy so cheery, hell, I don't think I've ever even seen him smile. But he was all rambling about how the Prescotts are going down and that we should blow up Nathan's room. Okay, that last part I made it up but he did talk about trashing his stuff. I told him we should hang out. Then I spotted Justin and he looked absurdly happy too. Like an actual genuine grin, not just high-happy. He called Dana 'his muse' and I had to go through a very long lecture on why we should all praise her. Then she found us and before I got to talk to her they were already working on some serious saliva exchange so I let them be."

I'm starting to get a strange sort of feeling. It's not exactly a déjà vu, it's more like that time Chloe made me watch Fight Club, and when we were halfway through it I started thinking something was off with Brad Pitt and then I found myself citing the lines as the characters spoke. Not because I was super intuitive, but because I had already watched that film before. Twice. But only did I realize what film it was when I saw Bob's head all torn out. So right now I can picture the yellow walls, the loud music, Justin and Dana, it all sounds familiar once Warren actually mentions it, but I can't figure out what's going to happen next.

"The place was actually so small, I had to push my way through several of those slobbering couples and I somehow landed in the kitchen. At least I could actually breathe there, and I found Brooke. She was... Not in her best mood. I think she was trying to wash something off her glasses."

Oh fuck. The glasses are my Bob. Bits and pieces come back to me like an old ruined film.

Dana has her arm around my neck and she's leaning on me, complaining about her choice of shoes, but also bragging about how nice they look on her. Her purple dress is so tight it forces her to walk like a baby penguin so she uses me for support. I'm laughing at her and she hands me a cup of something that smells like petrol mixed with some strange fruit. Like hell I'm drinking that. I'm trying to balance Dana's weight and the cup I'm holding but it keeps spilling out and it's getting my hands all sticky and I want to give it back to her but then I feel something collide into my arm. I then realize that something is a person, and a great deal of whatever was in that cup flies off and lands on their face.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" I immediately say. The smell from the drink is now a lot stronger and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"You've got to be kidding me." Brooke looks at me up and down with her most disdainful bitch face.

"Oh Brooke, I didn't see you there."

"Sure you didn't." She takes off her sticky glasses and stares down at them, but she's squinting so hard I doubt she's actually able to see them. And here I thought they were just some hipster accessory. "Perfect. Just what I needed."

"I said I'm sorry, maybe I can... " I try to take her glasses but she steps back.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to dumb it down for you: Fuck off."

"Jeez, what's your problem?" It takes me much less than usual to grow tired of her bullshit.

"You really love acting all naive, right? Too bad Warren is not around to fall for your endearing damsel in distress act. "

"Hey, Warren's not here yet?" Dana asks, the tension between Brooke and I going over her head.

"He's not coming," Brooke answers, after giving her a major 'what is it to you' look.

"Sure he is, we invited him and he texted he's coming." Dana's still smiling and Brooke glances at me for a second and rolls her eyes.

"Of course." And just with that she walks away from us.

I remember telling Dana that Brooke and Victoria could be BFFs, and I remember her not hearing a thing because Katy Perry started playing, so she grabbed my arm and dragged me against my will into the dancing group. I remember us stomping our feet and waving our arms around in the most awkward moves that could not possibly be called dancing, like we were still in her bedroom on our own. Then Justin joined us, his fits of laughter more deafening than the music itself, and threw his signature "check out the Max" that made me cringe to the bone.

I should be happy about it. After all, it looks like it was the kind of night I wanted to enjoy. Except for the fact that I can only remember chunks of it. Something in my stomach growls and tightens, making me feel also physically uncomfortable.

"... and I tried talking to her, but, like I said, I guess she was just in a foul mood." I hear Warren say, though I didn't catch the first part.

"When is she not?" When Warren shrugs I realize I've said it out loud.

"She likes to pretend to be all tough, but she's really cool once you get to know her." Warren says but is cut short by Penny crying for more attention.

"She's one needy little thing, huh?" And I'm not sure myself whether I'm talking about the cat or Brooke.

"You've no idea." He chuckles. "But anyway, I left the kitchen and..."

"Wait," I stop him when I feel something twist inside my belly. "Before you go on, I really need to use the bathroom."

"You think you can stand up?"

"I can... Try." I hate that word.

I pull my legs from beneath the blankets and rest my feet on the carpet. It does feel amazingly soft. Warren offers me a hand to help me stand up, but I use mine to push myself up and manage to get on my feet. It does not last long though, and, in my search for some balance I end up grabbing his arm. His skin is so warm under my cold fingers. I need my tripped out brain to stop being stupid about it and focus on maintaining a good posture, but I keep thinking about how small my hand looks.

"Thanks," I mumble and move my hand to his shoulder for a better grip, and because there's actually a sleeve there to hang on to. Once again, my tongue moves before my brain can filter out my words. "When did you get so tall?"

"I got a really strong case of the hiccups." Warren laughs and rests his right hand behind my back, in case I fall backwards. "Okay, now, one foot at a time. Watch it there, take your time. There you go... Careful with the door frame sticking out there."

My eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness in the bedroom, so I squint at the sight of yellowish lights on the wall of the hallway. Luckily, the door I'm guessing leads to the bathroom is only a few feet away. I let go of Warren's shoulder and he gets inside and switches the light on for me. Now that light is almost blinding and I use my hand to shade my eyes.

"If you start hissing you'll be an actual vampire," Warren says as he walks out and stands by the door so I can get in.

The bathroom tiles feel cold as ice under my feet. I close the door behind me, still narrowing my eyes and balancing the weight of my body between the balls of my feet and my heels. There's a huge mirror taking over half of one of the four walls, but I avoid it at all costs and sit - or sort of fall - on the toilet. At least I'm wearing my own underwear under the boxers, but no bra. I should have noticed it was missing when my breast met those painfully sharp claws.

I stare at my surroundings from my seat. The blueish shower and sink give off this vintage vibe, like they're old but well-kept. Right next to the tap, there's a cup with three toothbrushes inside. It's cute that Warren's parents keep one in there for him. But the main character in the room is the shower curtain. It's got an outer space pattern that doesn't match the rest of the decoration at all, but it's got blues and purples and a galaxy and it's hella hypnotizing.

Hella.

There's a knock on the door and I realize I may be taking too long. I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and thankfully remember to pull my underwear and the boxer back up before opening the door. Good. My hand's already on the doorknob when I think I see something odd from the corner of my eye. I look back at the mirror and notice a dark red mark at the base of my neck.

"Fuck," I say louder than I intended to, and it echoes all around me. But there's no Bob moment, I don't get any flashbacks or any clue of where the hell it came from.

"Everything alright?" Warren asks from the outside. "You didn't fall asleep, did you?"

"What? No! I'm fine, I'm done." I try rubbing my thumb against it, in small hopes that it's just a little lipstick stain, but it won't come off. I wonder if Warren's seen it. I wonder if he knows how it got there. I wonder if...

"Then get your ass out here."

My rubbing has made it look even redder, and I so desperately want to ignore it. I open the tap again and splash water on my face in an attempt to do away with the smudged makeup that was making me look like a suicidal clown. Now my face looks just as red and maybe it's not as obvious as it was before.

I step outside once I've turned off the lights, and Warren doesn't seem to notice, but I avoid eye contact anyway. Fortunately, something else makes us both raise our heads in unison and share a knowing smile.

"Was that... your stomach, again?" He asks and I simply nod in return. "What kind of monstrous creature do you even keep in there? Keep it quiet or it'll wake up the whole house."

I'm about the jump in defense of my poor hungry guts but I freeze before I get the chance to mouth my response.

"Wait, who's sleeping? What time is it?" I'm now whispering in a rush, paranoia sinking deep within me.

Warren presses his lips together, holding back a mocking smile that I know he wants to pull so badly.

"I'm guessing it's around three in the morning, you only slept for like half an hour." He stares at his invisible watch on his wrist. "And my parents are sleeping but don't worry, they slept through my 'I want to be Travis Barker when I grow up' phase, they can sleep through that beast you have in there."

"Never took you for a punk drummer." I laugh, though still in a low voice.

"I'm a man of many talents... though drumming is not one of them. It was a short-lived phase." His eyes journey down to my feet. "Wait here, I'll get you some slippers and we can go savage the kitchen."

My feet are still cold from the bathroom tiles, so I won't argue with that. Only once Warren has left I notice the flight of stairs leading to a ground floor, so I'm guessing the last door on the other end of this hallway would be his parents' room. I step away from it as far as I can and almost bump into Warren when he's back with a pair of old grey slippers.

"Sorry, I took the nice-looking pair to Blackwell," he says as he lays them on the floor next to my feet.

"They'll do fine." I walk into them and stare down at the stairs curiously. My balance has gotten a bit better, but they still look like quite a challenge. "This should be fun."

Gripping the railing tightly, I make my way down the first few steps, while Warren walks in front of me just in case I fall over. The splashing of water on my face has given me some well-needed waking up and I succeed in reaching the last step without losing my balance once. I now feel more self-assured, and Warren can tell because he just goes through the first door on the right, waiting for me to follow without offering extra support.

There's an island counter in the middle of the small kitchen and I waste no time in sitting on the first stool I find, because, even if did walk down those stairs by myself, it was fucking exhausting. The same vibe I got from the bathroom is present in this room, in its light green wooden counters, in its retro-looking fridge. It's like it's a nice grandma's house in the countryside, and in the daytime the kitchen will be filled with the smell of freshly-baked pie. Warren is already looking into the fridge, and when he smiles at me over his shoulder, I give him a thumb up. He takes out a half-full casserole and when he closes the door, I notice it's filled with so many pictures it's hard to tell its original color. I lean forward and squint my eyes. One picture of a chubby kid grabs my attention.

"Is that you with the little dinosaur?" I ask, now noticing the Ninja Turtles tee under his overall. Born and raised a geek.

"Yeah..." Warren wrinkles his nose a bit. "But that's no dinosaur, that's Godzilla."

There are many pictures of him, though they don't look like your average scrapbook photos. A lot of thought was put into their composition and framing, using different lighting techniques and unusual angles.

"Who took all of these?"

"My mom, most of them." Warren glances at the fridge and my stomach growls again when I hear the beep of the microwave. "She's got a good eye for photography, whereas I... I got my dad's eyes. You can tell that by all the blurred, poorly lit images. Don't know why she even put them up there."

I slowly start picking out the pictures he's speaking of, the big majority of them depict toys posed in the middle of a battle. I giggle at the one where Warren's proudly holding Battle Cat. No, that's not Warren, that boy has darker hair. I lean a bit closer, the stool leaning with me under my weight and then both my seat and I drop violently to the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I quickly say as I get up, not giving Warren time to worry, but when I settle myself back on the stool, I find he's laughing and shaking his head rather than looking concerned. He hands me a dish of macaroni, meat and some other things that smell like I imagine ambrosia would smell, and leans on the counter to eat his. "Thanks... Was I this bad when we came here?"

"Nope, it was much worse." He shifts and turns his fork over a piece of bacon before taking a bite. "I don't mean to sound like your mom here, but... You really think that was wise with everything that's been going on here?"

"No." I try a piece of macaroni and its taste overcomes my expectations. "But since you're not my mom, we don't need to have this conversation."

"I'm just saying... "

"I know. But it's easier for you. I know I sound like such a cliché, but I just wanted to act like I don't care. But you... you don't care. You're much braver than... Oh, shit! How didn't I think of it before? You're perfect!"

"I... Don't know how you got there, but I kinda like where this is going." Warren proudly straightens his back and raises his chest.

"You'd be the perfect subject for my assignment."

"'Shoot the geek'?" He asks, his mouth full of macaroni.

"Almost. I should shoot two sides of someone, their usual cover and their true self."

"A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde kind of thing?"

"Pretty much. It'd be easy with you 'cause you're so transparent, but... I've kind of already told Dana I'd use her."

"Oh, so you do all this sweet-talking just to tell me you've already chosen the cheerleader over me?" A hand flies dramatically to his chest, as his heart's just been broken.

"You'll get over it, I'm sure."

There's a long moment of silence that I take as plain enjoyment of the food, though halfway through my dish I realize Warren is not devouring it as enthusiastically as I am. That's probably because I was feeling hungrier than a Pac-Man, but even now that my stomach has settled, my eating rhythm doubles his. Warren only picks each bite after thorough deliberation, which makes the process excruciatingly slow. He realizes I'm staring and looks back at me, so I go back to my own food.

"I'm guessing this assignment is from the teacher who's replacing Mr. Jefferson?" He asks while I toy with a half-melted piece of cheese.

"More like a punishment for me failing to participate in his stupid contest," I say and stab the small yellow piece along with a chunk of meat that I take to my mouth. "I still need one more shot from Dana, though."

"You guys sure did take a bunch of selfies together." Warren takes something out of the pocket of his pajamas and hands it to me. "I managed to save this one from your jeans."

I put my fork down and take the picture from him. Justin is the one who took it, with Dana standing to his left, her right arm wrapped around his neck, and her left arm wrapped around me. She's sticking her tongue out, Justin looks like he's screaming and I'm laughing and holding my hand up high. Someone else was supposed to be in the shot at my left, but only an arm is visible. It's funny, we look like a fun group of friends, a group any Wendy's girl would be a part of. And still, I can't help but think I do not belong in that picture, like I was photoshopped into it but anyone could tell it's a cheap manipulation. I blink and think back to what Warren's just said.

"Why did it need saving from my jeans?"

"Ah, I'm getting there. Where was I?" He drags a chair close to me and sits in what could only be described as 'an old man telling children stories' pose.

"You were in the kitchen." I avoid mentioning Brooke this time.

"Right, well, we didn't really meet right away. I even talked to Daniel there, who would have thought? He told me he's working on a new style, experimenting with portraits..."

The more he strays from the point, the more I'm certain he's purposely trying to avoid getting to it. It takes him a while, but he eventually takes notice of my bored face, and cuts his ramble short.

"And then Dana spotted me, and she looked so damn happy to see me." He says while scratching his chin. "I think she even went 'thank God you're here'"

"Are you making stuff up again?" I narrow my eyes at him, but he just shrugs.

"You'd think that, but no. I was just as surprised by her reaction as you are. She dragged me to this quiet corner and said she needed help getting you out of the closet. I thought she was metaphorically proclaiming her crush on you, but she took me to some room upstairs where you had literally locked yourself up inside a closet. Does any of this sound familiar at all?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure," I mumble as I'm trying to picture it, but there's no Bob moment.

"She said you guys had all taken something, but you were the only one to have gone... well, a bit mental."

"Define 'a bit mental'."

"You were yelling at anyone who tried to open the door of the closet. And it was scary. You did calm down a bit when I got there. We talked for a bit about Chaos Theory and that seemed to soothe you."

"Why Chaos Theory?"

"That's what you were going on about. Never knew drugs could turn you that philosophical, maybe I should try them."

The memory is somewhere in my head, all scratched and out of tune, but still there. The closet is small and dark, and somehow that gives away a comforting vibe. It's not completely closed, though, there's a thin ray of orange light coming from the three inches that are currently separating the door from the frame. I can see Warren sitting on the floor on the other side, or at least his knee and a foot that I'm guessing are his. He's saying something I can't really hear, and I see myself like I'm watching a movie, like I'm not even in my own body, and that girl is hugging her knees to her chest.

"It's Chaos Theory, Warren," the scared little Max says. "You were right. Cause and effect. And the cause is me. I did it, I killed everyone. Beginning with Kate... oh, poor sweet Kate."

For a moment, there is only the music from downstairs to break the silence before he speaks.

"Whatever you did, I'm sure you didn't mean to. Chaos Theory doesn't really work that way. Yes, for every action there's a reaction, but the reason why it's about chaos is because it's out of our control. Chaos is about chance, about randomness." The door opens a few more inches and I can actually see his face. "We can talk more about it if you come out and..."

He's wearing a plain white t-shirt, I'm guessing the same one he wore at the 'End of the World' party that never happened last week. Scared little Max seems to notice this too, she lets go of her knees and crawls closer to the light, knocking down a few shoes on her way.

"Oh, Warren, the picture! Did you bring the picture?"

"Uhm... the one you sent me? Yeah, I've..."

"No, no, the one... the one..." She trails off and seems to even forget what she was saying. "It's useless. All of it. It'll always take me back to the dark room. All roads lead back to him."

"...to who?"

"Fuck, and I've killed you too. It's horrible. Oh God."

I overhear another voice, barely audible, that sighs.

"She's just acting like a really depressed drunk. I should have known, Juliet went through the same thing last time she and Zach broke up, and she, like, drank herself to madness". I know it's Dana and there's certain unease in her voice.

Warren turns his head to look at her, and I cannot see the face he makes but I can imagine the '...seriously?' all over it. He then smiles back to me, the kind of smile you give to a dog while trying to take your sock from its mouth.

"Sounds like you're undertaking quite the guilt trip, but seeing as I'm speaking to you here, I'm pretty sure you did not in fact kill me."

"Well, not the 'you' you, but...the other you..."

I can remember the senseless talk going on for a good while, and I'm surprised neither Dana nor Warren smacked me out of it, just thinking of it drains all the patience out of my body. I should add 'babbling like a useless baby' to the list of reasons why I should never again 'drink myself to madness', as Dana put it.

However, Warren makes no mention of any of this. He rambles a bit more about how he found out in that moment that we were in Hayden Jones's bedroom, and how he was the only one in the Vortex Club squad he actually endured. And how he decorated his walls with 'dope BLUR' posters. And how he had an excellent taste in curtains. By that point, I've finished eating and I need to stop him.

"So Chaos Theory, huh? Did I happen to mention Global Warming, too?" I say, and manage to get a half-smile out of him.

"Oh yes. But then you moved on to darker stuff. Reptilians and all that." He replies, matter-of-factly.

"I'm guessing that was right before discussing Paul McCartney's alleged death?"

"And let's not forget Avril Lavigne's." Warren takes a hand to the left side of his chest, then uses it to pick up both our dishes and leaves them on the dishwasher.

"So... how long before I started plotting to blow the house up?"

"About five minutes. I'm good with bombs, so we managed to set it off with everyone still inside. Luke helped, by the way. One hell of a bloody business that was. No need to worry about the cops, though. We left no tracks, even burnt our fingerprints, just to make sure nobody could identify us. It was your idea."

"Once again, you've officially taken this way too far. Though I've always dreamt of being a pyro."

We chuckle at the silliness of it all and I realize my head isn't throbbing at the shakes of laughter anymore, nor do my limbs feel that heavy and sluggish. That casserole really brought my mind and body back to life. By now I'm positive I won't get all the answers from Warren, at least not today, but I'm not sure I want them right now. There's one detail I can't let him get away with though.

"Okay, seriously. Whatever happened to my clothes?"

"Oh, that." He puts the rest of the casserole back into the fridge and sits down. "Well, eventually you got out, and after a while, Dana wanted to take you back to Blackwell. I told her getting back there in the middle of the night with you in that state was not the smartest thing to do. Not to mention she was not a perfect example of sobriety herself. So, Dana agreed that I take you home. My home. With the condition that I let her know how you are. I was surprised, she's not like Victoria and that crowd, she actually cares. Actually, I should text her."

He begins to stand up, but I grab the hand he's set on the table to hold him back. There's no way I'll let him do an interval now.

"Don't worry, I'll text her in a second. Go on." Warren glances at our meeting hands for a moment. I let go of him once he's back on his seat.

"Okay. So..." Warren stretches his back and looks less willing to retell this part by the second. "We got here. Getting you upstairs was... Troublesome, but we managed. Then I showed you the bedroom."

I'm sure he's making a pause here just to annoy me, but I try to keep it cool.

"You weren't so keen on the idea of going to bed, but I thought you'd better sleep it off. Still, you refused and started walking backwards, then you reached the hall and tripped on your own feet and fell on your butt."

"Awesome." I can feel the hot blood rapidly spreading through the vessels in my face.

"And then you said you were feeling sick."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. So I searched for the first basket I could find and handed it to you. But I didn't realize it was actually an empty pot from the last fern I killed."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. So you know how some pots have holes in the bottom to drain the water out?"

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. You had one hell of a puke bath."

"Now that must have been fucking attractive. I think you've officially seen me sick more times than my own mom."

"Not to worry. Even your puke looks cute." Immediately after he says this, he makes the same confused face I'm probably making. "And I should not have said that."

"So, where did my clothes go?"

"Actually, after you let it all out, you immediately started... stripping." Warren looks away as his cheeks gain a crimson tone, though probably not as tomato as my whole face must look right now. "I swear if I hadn't stopped you, you would be naked in no time. But I did stop you, you know, against my better judgment. "

"That's good to know." I can't look him in the eye right now. Instead, I focus on an old wine stain on the table, right next to his elbow.

"Oh and I didn't have any girl's clothes to lend you, sorry. My mom bought me those boxers while I was at Blackwell so I gave you those, but they're new, I swear. "

"That's okay." I chuckle, though I find it hard to force my lips into a smile. Warren notices it and hurries to go on.

"I swear I didn't look, I left you in my room so you could change, but I didn't..."

"It's not that." I don't even know why my throat has chosen this instant to give birth to an annoying lump that is threatening to break my voice at any moment. "I just hate playing the part of the damsel in distress."

And I hate myself for using Brooke's words.

"Max, you were covered in vomit, you were hardly a damsel."

"Thank you, Warren," I say ironically, but he's actually made me pull an earnest smile.

"Don't look so grim, you look like you had fun after all. Before all the closet and puke stuff," he says and his eyes trail down to my neck.

Fuck. I lean forward and rest my chin on my hand, hoping the rest of my arm will cover the spot where I think that red thing is. There's no way I'm asking him about it. Not directly, at least.

"And did you have fun?" I ask while I brush my bangs out of my eyes.

"I... Yeah, it wasn't that bad." He shrugs and I'm trying so hard to read his body language but I'm not getting anything at all. "Overall, there was a nice, chipper vibe, which was different. I think it would have done Kate some good, too bad she wasn't there."

"Kate?" I repeat, my eyebrows rising at their own will. I can hardly imagine her having a good time at one of those parties after what happened the last time.

"I know what you're thinking, but even if it was Hayden's house, none of those jerks were there. And I think she needs a night off, to lift her spirits."

"What do you mean? She's been nothing but smiles!" I sound a bit more intense than I mean to, because I'm mad. Kate is alive and is well, and I somewhat refuse to hear otherwise.

"Exactly. Every time we've spoken this week, she's been wearing this tough and happy mask, like she's got it all under control. But I can see what's up, she's just playing a part for everyone else." Warren furrows his brows, brings his index finger to massage the point between them, then goes back to his usual smile. "But she's doing her best. We all are."

"I guess we are." I sigh and try to read him again, only to fail again. "You're awfully good at noticing things."

"I'm good at the observing part. The hands-on part, not so much."

"You're much better than you think. I don't think Dana could have gotten me out of that closet."

"Right. Now, thanks to me, you can both enjoy your love for each other freely."

We both laugh at this and my thoughts go back to that text I was supposed to write to her. There's a flower-shaped clock on the wall behind him that marks ten past four, and Warren seems to read my mind, because he gets up before I get to suggest leaving.

"We should head back to Blackwell." He says while ripping a page from the small notebook that is lying on the counter next to an expensive-looking teapot. Something I'd definitely find in a countryside grandma's house.

He then takes a black pen from inside the notebook and writes three lines.

"Hi mom.

That casserole was awesome.

WG"

"That's it?" I chuckle at it as he puts it up on the fridge with a watermelon-shaped magnet. "No more information, no 'thank you', no love?"

Warren shrugs and adds a 'love,' before his initials. I roll my eyes and follow him upstairs to his room. He doesn't turn on the lights, which I find odd, and decide to wait by the door. There's an old Thundercats poster on top of the bed that I hadn't noticed, but that's pretty much all I get to discern in the darkness. I'm staring at it and barely notice when Warren hands me a purse I recognize as the one Dana lent me for the night. The only content I find inside there is my camera and my phone, which, of course, is dead. Warren leaves to the bathroom for a moment to change back to his clothes in record-time, and when he's back, he hands me a grey bomber jacket and a pair of sneakers.

"Only your sneakers survived your puke bath, and you'll freeze if you go out like that." He looks up and down at me meaningfully, though his eyes linger a bit at the lower part.

"You don't happen to have any pants, do you?" I self-consciously cross my legs, as if I've just realized I'm wearing nothing but his boxers there.

"Uhh... No, I took them all to Blackwell." He says and then blinks, as if a little bulb has just lit up on top of his head. "I could give you the ones I was wearing, my pajamas. Or the ones I'm wearing now."

"No. No, thanks. No, I'll be fine with the jacket." I shake my head as I take it from his hands and hurry to put it on. From the moment I thrust my fist through the armhole I can already tell this thing will look huge on me.

"Okay, one 'no' would have been..." Warren pauses when I finish zipping the jacket up. "... enough."

"I look ridiculous, don't I?" I say and raise my hand, letting the extra bit of the sleeve just hanging. I feel like Fievel.

"No, yeah, no, you look... ridiculous." He nods and blinks at least five times in a second. "Shall we?"

* * *

The sun is still asleep when we park at Blackwell, the campus only lit up by the lamp posts and the fireflies circling around them. It's a clear night, but the air feels thick and sticky, as if the weather hasn't made up its mind on whether this should be a rainy morning or not. I'm glad David is nowhere to be seen, and we can stroll calmly back to the building without the Big Brother watching us. By now, I feel mostly regular, maybe just a bit too worn-out. The only actual physical discomfort that's bothering me is that soft breeze that keeps brushing my bare legs and making my knees quake uncomfortably. Plus, Warren's given me my puked jeans and Dana's top in a bag that I'm too lazy to hold properly and I feel it hit my calves now and again.

We walk through the main door and stand there in silence for a moment, not quite willing to go back to our respective dorms.

"Quite a wild night, huh?" I say just to cut through the silence.

"Sure." Warren smiles to his right side. "We should do it again sometime. But next time, I'll be the one to get super wasted and you can give me a piggy ride."

"You gave me a piggy ride?"

"Yeah, well, like I said, I'd parked a few minutes away and you weren't quite fit to walk."

I chuckle and we continue to quietly look at each other for a moment. Warren has this sullen expression on his face, but that may be just tiredness. I usually can't hold a stare for this long, but the fact that he won't look away keeps me from doing it too. My breathing may have got a bit heavier, too, because I suddenly sense the not-so-nice smell that comes from the bag I'm holding.

And the moment's gone.

"Thank you... for everything. You should go get some sleep," I say to him and Warren nods.

"Yeah... you too." He walks over to the door and pulls it open. "Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, Warren." My eyes don't leave him until he turns around the corner at the end of the hallway and disappears.

I'm standing there just staring at the empty hall when someone calls me from the staircase, making me jump.

"Hi Max, I thought I heard you." Dana is peeping her head with a light smile. "Scared you, didn't I."

"You surprised me. And you have exceptional hearing," I say in a low voice as I walk up the stairs and into our hallway, I'm not interested in anyone else seeing me dressed like this. Dana is barefoot and wearing nothing but her tank top and panties, so I'm guessing she's just got out of bed.

"I was awake already, and Warren texted me you guys were coming, so I was waiting," she replies and we stop by her door. Then she stares down to the bag I'm holding. "What is that awful smell?"

"That's the contents of my stomach in there." I sigh and she twists her nose even more.

"Ew. How are you feeling now?"

"Better, I guess. Though I think I'll just go straight into suspended animation till Monday."

"Can't blame you. No one will be going to class today anyway." Dana shrugs. "Wanna come in for a bit?"

I want to say no, I really feel the urge to bury my face in my pillow for at least ten hours straight, but there's something in her eyes that tells me she could use some company.

"Okay." I nod and leave the stinky bag on the floor outside next to the door.

I walk behind her and then notice a naked back and a blond head on her bed. Have these things always happened around Blackwell and I've never noticed? I shoot Dana a look and she shakes her head.

"Don't worry about him, Justin's a heavy sleeper." She sits on her couch and throws the stuffed spiders lying next to her to the floor to make room for me. As I walk over to her, I feel her staring at me. "Is that Warren's? You look really hot in it."

"Yeah, right." I roll my eyes and sit by her side, but I miscalculate the distance and end up falling on it not so graciously.

"Don't be modest, you totally owned the night. All the hot guys were asking me about you. Your social media must be blowing up."

"That's so embarrassing." I unconsciously brush my face with my palm. "But my phone died, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh, please." Dana takes out her own smartphone and shows me a selfie she uploaded of us both. "Check us out. Over a hundred likes in one night, baby!"

This image is way different from the polaroid I had. There are only two girls in this picture, and both look stunningly beautiful. This wouldn't surprise me from Dana, but when I look at myself, I feel like I'm looking at someone else, someone I would feel jealous of. My wretched freckles are still there but they aren't as prominent, my lips don't seem so bland and dry and she fixed my drowsy raccoon eyes... They also seemed to have this new, piercing quality about them that I can't quite put my finger on. It reminds me of Warren's digital work on my photo, how it seemed so alien yet so beautiful at same time, a sort of surreal idealistic version of myself.

"Wowser." It's about all I can muster staring at it.

"Don't drown, Narcissus." Dana giggles as she puts her phone away. I'm kind of surprised that she knows who that is.

"You actually did an amazing job on my makeup. How did you manage to do it high as a kite?"

"It's about only thing I can do right, really." Dana exhales from her nose as her gaze shifts towards the side. The breeze squeezes through the slit of the open window pushing specks of dust around her, with the soft light from her table lamp resting delicately on her face. I see a perfect op, I instinctively grab my camera and snap a picture. I had almost forgotten about my assignment. A grin widens on my face, this was exactly what I was looking for. She looks over as I flap the polaroid.

"Oh, lemme see!" Dana jerks out her hand and ninjas the picture from me mid-flap.

She blinks at the image for a moment, it's hard to tell if she's pleased or disappointed though she looks absorbed and thoughtful. She finally nods and gives a slight hum of approval.

"This is nice... I like this." Dana says rather languidly, she sighs deeply. "Make-up and posing for pictures... it's all I seem to be good for."

"You're not true." The words seem to fall out of my mouth out as I steal back the photo and slip it into my loyal satchel.

"What?"

"I mean, that's not true... You know... what you just said." I let out the long yawn that I've been trying to hold back.

"You need some serious sleep." Dana laughs and shakes her head.

"I know, but for real, you're good for many things, and more importantly, you're a good person. My memory is quite shitty, but Warren told me you stayed with me all night, even though it was a party and you could have been having fun."

"That was no big deal, we went there together, and I wasn't about to bail out on you. Besides, you were a lot of fun, speaking nonsense. Kind of like those viral kids under anesthesia." She attempts a smirk, but it's somewhat weak and fades fast. It reminds me of what Warren said about Kate's smiles.

"You okay, Dana?"

"Yeah, it's just... it's been a long night." She sighs and leans her head to the side, pointing to the naked Justin on her bed. "We had a bit of a fight... and then some make-up sex. But it's still a fight, and I'm no good at that."

"You guys look good together. I'm sure you'll work it out." I smile at her but the words feel lame and cheesy.

"It's just..." She keeps giving me that look, like she's afraid to speak.

"You don't have to tell me... but I'm a good listener."

"Justin..." Dana lowers her voice and looks at him from the corner of her eye. "When he gets really drunk, he won't stop talking about Chloe." I sit in silence. I wasn't expecting anything remotely related to her. "I know he sort of had a crush on her, and I know it's hard, but... I feel like I'm the rebound girl, you know? Always the second-best."

Not sure what to say for a moment, I try to put myself in her shoes. I think objectively of the way she's feeling, but now I remember I actually called her 'Chloe' when we were together yesterday. I'm such an ass.

"Look, I know for a fact that Justin is really into you. He probably misses her, but... He likes you and he cares for you."

"I know... I think. But there's some stuff he doesn't know about me and... I don't know if I'm ready to share it yet, but it also feels like I'm pushing him away by not telling him, you know?"

I immediately flashback to that talk we never had two Mondays ago, our first meaningful talk that made me care about her more than I thought I would. There's something heartbreaking about seeing a girl like Dana being miserable. It should be against the laws of nature for people who are that joyful at all times to be brought down. The need to cheer her up is now stronger than my insecurities.

"Just let him know you need some time, and when you're ready to tell him, you will. I'm sure he'll understand." I say, this time with more confidence. "You don't need to rush it, but don't feel the need to hide it either."

"It sounds so easy when you say it." She finally gives me something that looks more like a true smile. "I'm glad we hung out together. You were a total Wendy's girl, whatever that means."

"Yeah, too bad I can't remember most of it. I've only got some random memories and those selfies. Oh, and this stupid mark on my neck."

Dana's eyes dart up in a split second.

"Wait. You don't remember how you got that either?" There's certain excitement in her voice, like she's really amused by the whole thing. "Awn, Trev will be crushed."

"...Trevor?"

"Oh yeah. Even after you left, he kept going on and on about you all night. I think he's in love."

"So... I made out with Trevor?" I say, still quite not grasping it.

"Wow, you really don't remember." Her face gets more serious, but not losing the new-found amusement yet. "You said you were into skater boys, he said you looked hot, and bang! A match made in heaven."

'Heaven' is not the word I'd choose.

"Was this before or after the closet thing?" I ask and she narrows her eyes in thought for a moment.

"Way before. Around the time Warren got to the party."

"Wait, so... he... saw it. He saw us?"

"Yeah... That was awkward. And his friend Brooke didn't help."

So many times I've heard people describe heavy news as a slap in the face, but only now do I entirely grasp the meaning of that phrase. The furious blush doesn't take its time rushing to every inch of my skin. I actually wish I could get a Bob moment right now, because my imagination can take me to the darkest places in no time, but my brain seems to have ran out of battery.

Seeing my reaction, Dana finally turns full-on serious.

"I'm guessing he didn't tell you about any of this."

"No." I bite my lower lip in anger. "No, I... I should be going to bed."

Dana hesitates but then smiles sympathetically and walks me to the door.

"If you need to talk, I'm here." She adds before I leave. "And let me know how it goes with that project of yours, okay?"

"Of course. Thanks again for posing. And for everything, I had a really good time."

"Me too. Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight."

I pick up my stinky bag on the way to my room and drop it on the opposite corner, right next to Lisa. She won't mind. I then let myself fall on my bed and sigh deeply. While inhaling I can sense this jacket smells like Warren, so I unzip it immediately and toss it to the floor in a childish tantrum. And then I realize I'm still wearing his clothes. I'm not content until I'm fully naked, and then I climb under the sheets. The Captain's disapproving stare is also burning on me, so I decide he needs to spend the night on the floor too.

All in all, I'm not sure who I'm mad at exactly, but I don't want to know. And this is the state I hate the most. I don't want to think about anything, and my mind keeps opening imaginary tabs with things that make me huff and toss and turn to no end.

Stop it.

Stop thinking.

Go somewhere else.

Go with her.

* * *

A/N: I think so far this is the chapter I've enjoyed writing the most! I could shower you with excuses about why it took this long to finish it - and believe me, I've got some good ones - but hopefully you'll trust me that I'm doing my best and I never forget about this story or you guys.

I need to take some time to express how much I appreciate your reviews. More often than not I go through 'who will even like this' phases that block me from writing and just reading your comments, getting a new "I NEED MORE" message helps so much xD So thank you to each and every one of you for your reviews and messages!

First of all, I need to thank KameXI, my new writing buddy/editor/extra ideas guy. This chapter would not be here today if you hadn't messaged me, kept me on track, discussed ideas with me and worked your magic over my wonky stuff. Thank you so much for keeping the hype alive and for not going all 'woah, this chick is crazy' over my random rambles.

Marcus: You should see the face I make when I read your reviews. Actually, you shouldn't, it's not pretty, but there are hearts all over my eyes.

pointeshoes17: I love the fact that you mentioned chapter 1, I think it's the one I'm the most unsure of! And I totally agree with you, Max does know about Warren's feelings. She's always known. Remember how in chapter 1 Dana brings it up and she's all "Yeah, I get it", blushing and trying to change the subject. And then in chapter 3 she finds that picture of them Warren has in his locker and she still asks herself WHY *facepalm*. I've always believed she's in complete denial, with that and many other things that she doesn't really want to face, so she just pretends they aren't there for as long as she can. But that's my take on it.

So, Part 10 is a Chloe dream sequence which I've already written out, though I'm not sure when to upload it. Maybe in a week? Maybe more? What do you guys think?

Again, thank you all for being patient and for keeping me inspired. You're awesome.

PS: Are you excited about Before the storm? I'm absolutely terrified to play it! I'm trying to keep my expectations low, I don't want to be let down. But at the same time, I'm dying to meet Rachel!


	10. Chapter 10

"There are five steps of grief, right?"

"Weren't they 12? Pass me the ketchup."

"No, that's from your AA meeting."

"Stop there, I never needed rehab, I can hold my liquor. The ketchup, Maxine!"

"Don't call me that. Here."

"What's up with that lemon face?"

"Your dish looks like a crime scene."

"That's what I was going for."

"Poor little bacon, he never thought that wretched fork would betray him."

"He had it coming. Selfish bastard was keeping all the best flavors for himself."

"So what's the first step again?"

"Admitting you have a problem?"

"You're back on the rehab train."

"Fuck. And what's the equivalent of that with death? Admitting your friend's dead?"

"Isn't that like the last step?"

"I don't know why you think this conversation will lead us somewhere. Perhaps you should try talking to Kate about it. She'll give you a hella more spiritual answer."

"Talking to her is surprisingly hard when it comes to this stuff."

"Well, she _was_ dead. Even if she's not anymore, that must have left an important mark on her. Like she doesn't know where she belongs or what's real."

"Really?"

"No, I just made it up. But it sounded all wise and mystic, like something a dead chick would say, right?"

"Right..."

"... "

"Is that how you feel? Like you don't belong?"

"Isn't that how _you_ feel? Don't go all projecting on me."

"But you brought it up!"

"Need I remind you we're in _your_ head? It looks a hell lot like the Two Whales, but it's still your head. And I can carve and dissect all your little secrets and deepest fears."

"You really can?"

"No, I made that up too. But it would be interest- _ouch_! Hey, no food wars in here. Not since what happened with Collin freaking Stratford."

"Oh God, remember that? You went all Terminator-Chloe on him with the ketchup and the mustard."

"Only because he said your hair was stupid - which kind of was."

"It was. But you had my back anyway."

"Always. Plus, that asshole was the spitting image of Brian Johnson. His face was asking for it."

"Of whom again?"

"Oh come on, you're the movie buff, you can't forget about that one."

"You know I'm no good with names."

"Maybe you should go ask your Warren. He's your go-to guy to fill the blanks, isn't he?"

"He's n-... I don't know."

"That Memento guy's got nothing on you."

"It keeps happening. Is this normal? Am I normal?"

"Said the talking DeLorean to the talking corpse."

"I'm not a DeLorean anymore. At least not one with a flux capacitor. Shouldn't even be allowed a license."

"Shit, Max, you just had some fun. Maybe too much fun, but nobody's judging. I did say you should be more like me. Just go a bit more _you_ next time."

"I wasn't trying to be like you... or was I?"

"Let's find out then."

"Where are you going?"

"To prove I was right. Let's see... Somewhere among these cupboards we have all the answers. Right at the top we can find... Max's fear of heights? Nope, not interested. Hmm... Max's childhood memory of how she peed her pants in the field trip to the zoo?"

"That's no secret, everyone in Arcadia Bay knew about it, thanks to Collin freaking Stratford."

"Ooh, this is juicy! Max's wet dreams of nerdboy!"

"That's literally just a napkin."

"And Max's secret wish of being part of the Vortex Club."

"Now you're really making stuff up."

"So I was right before?"

"Oh look! Here's Chloe's ridiculous stubbornness."

"You'll have to do better than that."

"And... Chloe's abandonment issues."

"Good one. Now here by the menus we can find... Max's _abandoning_ issues."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me, you're the one who's been avoiding me all week."

"I didn't abandon you if that's... "

"Nope, once again you're missing the point."

"Then why don't you just tell me what it is?"

"Because it's so much more fun this way. And because that's also part of the whole point."

"I think I've just found Chloe's inability to make sense."

"And I think you're confusing it with Max's refusal to accept things."

"Wait. That's the first step, right? Refusal? "

"I believe it's called _denial_."

"So you knew!"

"Of course I did."

"But I'm not in denial, I know you're dead."

"And the irony of that just went right over your head, didn't it? Why did you bring this up anyway?"

"If you're in my head, don't you already know?"

"Oh, but I do enjoy getting it out of you."

"…"

"Come on, spit it out."

"I just don't know what to do about it."

"At least now you're thinking about doing something."

"But what?"

"No need to worry about that."

"Why? Because you saw it inside one of those cupboards?"

"No. Because I'm about to tell you."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh hi there! Just a little something for you to know Ginger Panda's still here, still working on this. Already got a deadline for part 11, so that should work. It's** _ **gonna**_ **work, or I'm gonna get my ass kicked. Thanks, KameXI, for kicking my ass regularly. And for all the talk about SPOILER-SPOILER-SPOILER. Good times.**

 **To you, sitting there, behind the screen, thank you for taking the time to read this, double thank you if you're following/favouriting this, triple thank you if you took the time to leave some nice words that probably made my day. And some more specific thank you's I feel obligated to leave because THERE CAN NEVER BE ENOUGH:**

 **Marcus, I've said this before, but I love your long ass ramblings. They're part of the reason why I write. Thank you for being awesome.**

 **YumiLeeHaan, si volvés por acá, mi idioma nativo también es el español! xD And heck yes, he needs to man up.**

 **Draegor, your review made me particularly happy. Still does. Quadruple thank you.**

 **Holywoodunderfed, thank you for coming back and for telling me about it and for inspiring me and thank you.**


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